


No Return

by knockplease



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Adult Content, Adventure, Angst, Drama, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multichapter, Romance, Some Humor, Space Opera, Violence, Witty Banter, cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-06-08 08:40:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 337,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15239616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knockplease/pseuds/knockplease
Summary: There comes a single moment that changes everything. A decision that must be made; and in that moment, one becomes fully responsible for course their lives will take. Every creature blessed with consciousness must face the point of no return.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from FF.N under one username (finally). It's like 10 years in the making but I swear I'll finish it! I own nothing. As always, comments and feedback are welcome, provided they're constructive. Enjoy!

**No Return**

How'd it ever come to _this_?

It's a question I've asked myself day in and day out for the last few… centuries, perhaps? I couldn't tell you for certain how long it's really been. I can hardly remember a time before my life was consumed by this overwhelming burden. I did not ask to be robbed of my normal life, as if picked up like a poorly crafted toy inside a crane machine. A cold, hard, steel arm reaching down at the press of a button, its sharp claws blotting out the light as they closed around my world. At first I had been enthusiastic about the potential of it all. " _Just think,"_ I had said, " _no more taking shit from_ anyone _! We'll do whatever we want, whenever we want, with no one to tell us otherwise. Don't worry,"_ I explained, " _hey, I'll protect you. You and me from here on out, buddy. You and me. Fuck everybody else."_

I've never been a fan of literature, not that there was much available in the first place… that was always more his area. Literature never quite fascinated me the way it so easily captivated him, but even I can grasp the concept of tragic irony.

Protect him. Protect _anyone_. I couldn't protect _myself_ , and I'm no longer sure that I want to. I've started to wonder, and I've seen it in the looks he gives me between passing seconds, if maybe the only way to protect him from this world is to let him go, should such a horrible circumstance manifest itself.

It's not that he actively pursues death, or that he's self-destructive in any way. Sometimes, though, I wonder myself why neither of us has run screaming out the airlock. I think I'm all that keeps him going on most days. I don't say that out of blatant narcissism, I say it because the reciprocal is true. Small, simple things, like a moment of genuine laughter, something that's harder and harder to come by, is all that reminds me that I'm anything more than a simple SIR unit. Those single still frames, insignificant fractions of time when his eyes are bright like they used to be, I know I've succeeded in making him forget his pain, if only for those few seconds, and it's enough. On days when I'm particularly lucky, I catch the ghost of the boy I once knew. The boy who everyone seemed to glance over, or just ignored all together. My adversary, my rival, my friend. The only one on the planet who understood isolation the same way I did.

We couldn't have been more incompatible with each other. I was always so rash and my plans were always so poorly constructed that they always fell apart at the seams. Usually taking him down, too. I have to smile at the thought of so many operations gone wrong; how much equipment we've damaged, how many things have exploded as a direct result of our interference. Things that we look back on with a twisted sort of fondness.

He went through a phase where he developed a tendency to run on caffeine and sugar for days. It proved to be incredibly entertaining. He'd ride it out as long as he could, and eventually, he'd crash. It wasn't long before I could read him well enough to predict when it would happen. I knew he wouldn't admit to feeling tired; he'd rather push his body past exhaustion, thinking he would look weak in front of me. It became routine after a while, for the two of us to sit on my couch and watch whatever pointless program was available. It never mattered, though, what it was, because we never watched it. It was his excuse for sleep and my excuse for…. I know it goes against tradition and the natural order of things. It's unspeakable, _unthinkable_ , impossible… but under the current circumstances, it seems only fair to give you the whole truth. I have no reservations concerning the two of us, or the questionable nature of our relationship.

Funny, I've never used that word for what we have before.

I suppose when it's forbidden to speak of, words to describe it don't come easily. We found a language of touch spoken only between sheets, punctuated with soft sighs and nails raking across skin. Something that we dare not name, for fear of what would happen should we speak it out loud. In living an illusion, it's dangerously simple to get lost. At times, I start to wonder if I'm just imagining the intimacy between us. Then I'll feel the innocent brush of his hand or a touch on my shoulder that he's learned to disguise as a stumble, and once we're safe behind locked doors and closed windows, things are the way they ought to be. Free of my absurd disguise, I stop fighting and let myself fall. For a few precious hours, I don't have to be anything but his lover. All too soon, it must be pushed aside and our masks must be firmly set in place all over. The secrecy of it all tears me apart. The lies we're forced to live, the identities we've been forced to assume for too many years have all taken a toll.

There are rules firmly set in place that are never mentioned in any kind of text. There's no legislature to enforce them, and there's no need for such documentation to enforce it when you can simply dispose of someone with the snap of your fingers. There are secrets I wish I'd never known, secrets that have destroyed the very foundation of everything I had based my life on. You are the only one who we are certain will receive this message, and be able to fully grasp it. Those are words I never thought I'd say.

The Tallest, those whom you most revere, they are little more than figureheads. Their armor causes unnatural elongation of the neck and spine while the chest plate breaks and resets the sternum. The gauntlets they wear keep their arms and shoulders weighed down and their hover belts cause their legs to atrophy entirely from disuse. There is nothing wonderful or glamorous about being a Tallest. It's all smoke and lasers. A farce and nothing more. Nothing but puppets. Strange, how much puppets amused Tallest Purple so much. I digress.

Nobody, of course, will tell you this. A Tallest himself would not dare betray this knowledge, or offer even a brief account of what his body endured. Unless, of course, he wanted his lifespan cut tragically short. Taller Irkens make excellent soldiers, it's true. They can carry more weight, build more muscle, and last much longer in battle than one of short stature. It would seem only logical then, for a governing body interested in remaining behind the scenes and in control, to get rid of its most prominent threat. It's exceptional, really, when you think about it. They leave you crippled in body and spirit.

Tallests, throughout history, have never had very long life spans. No one will tell you how many of those deaths were consistent with suicide, either. There are two Tallests for a reason, you know. It wasn't always that way. It's just easier to persuade someone when their whole world is on the line. Threaten someone's last anchor to sanity and you'll be surprised how quickly even an Irken will concede and obey.

I remember when we first were taken to meet them. This mysterious, elusive body without a name. I'm not sure they even have a name. Call them whatever seems most sensible to you. Puppet-Masters, Overlords, the Men Behind the Curtain. We've only ever used the third-person plural pronoun in reference. _They._ _Them._ Naming something, apparently, is what gives it power. We've already given them enough.

We never really _met them_ , so much as were led around dark hallways and saw a bunch of cloaked figures. Swore some kind of allegiance in a language we didn't understand, and were whisked away. What followed was a bit of a blur, and all I can really recall from our initial encounter was white hot pain and the sound of his screaming and sobbing.

If I ever wanted to know what pure agony sounded like, I had gotten an answer.

I'm pretty sure I know how it feels, too, but I tried not to give them satisfaction. Oh I screamed and I know I cried, don't be mistaken. What ended up breaking me in the end wasn't a process meant to disfigure and cripple my body. It was lying on that cold, metal table at the end of it all, listening to him scream and whimper, begging for me to make it stop. " _I'll protect you"_ I had told him, only a week or so before.

I failed.

Even worse, I'd failed _him_. I'd broken the one promise I truly meant to keep. He managed to call out a garbled assortment of painful noises, trying to pronounce the single syllable my name consisted of and I answered, and it calmed him a bit. Breathing, I remember, was especially painful. Talking, I found, was even worse. And whatever I was feeling, he was feeling it, times a thousand.

Irkens are taught to ignore emotion. In fact, there are receptors in your Pak meant to pick up on the neurological activity from the brain. Everything from hormone production to what would be instinctive reactions are "filtered" before the transmission ever gets to the synaptic gap. It's a process that goes unnoticed and takes only fractions of a millisecond. They could filter out pain if they wanted to, but without pain, what's there to be afraid of?

Part of me died on that wretched slab of metal that day. I had forfeited my identity and surrendered the rest of my life to faces I'd never seen. When I heard him crying again, much softer this time, I asked him as best I could if he was all right. It was a stupid, asinine question to ask because I already knew the answer. No, he was certainly _not_ all right and he would _never_ be all right again. He didn't berate me for the inappropriateness of the question, surprisingly enough. He drew in a breath of air and winced, trying to collect himself. " _I'm scared…"_

It was all I needed. I summoned every ounce of strength left in my now-disfigured body and begged it to forgive me.

There are no words, Irken or Human, for the agony that ripped through my entire form when I fought my way into a sitting position. My chest was compressed so tightly that breathing became a problem in a matter of seconds. I could barely get air into my body and I felt my head spin. The overwhelming sharpness from the sternum break was like nothing I can really describe. For your sake, I'll skip the details and suffice to say it was in a pain unlike anything I'd ever felt before. After staggering, crawling, and dragging myself across the short distance between us, I rested a moment, and slowly climbed to my feet. It didn't take more than a second for me to collapse onto the table beside him where I immediately passed out from the pain.

When I woke up, I was still lying next to him with no idea how long I had been unconscious. I had already exhausted my body, so I offered him the only comfort I had to give. I tried to hold his hand, but all I could manage was lightly touching his fingers. It was a pathetic attempt at comfort, but it was all I had the strength to offer, and if he felt similar, it was probably all he had the strength to take.

" _You're stupid. You're so stupid, do you know that? You're so, so stupid."_ It wasn't the reaction I'd expected at all, and I wasn't sure how to feel after all I'd just put my body through on his account. He laced his fingers between mine, though, and I could tell he was on the verge of tears again.

" _What are you talking about?"_ It seemed like a legitimate question.

" _Why did you do that? You could have died, you know."_

" _Because you got the comfortable table._ _Really, you should go try mine out; feels like you're lying on a slab of metal."_ Humor at a time like this. I was grateful when I heard a small laugh.

" _Please don't leave me."_

I told him I wasn't going anywhere. It might have been the pain that made me say it, or maybe it was out of sheer exhaustion. Perhaps both. I'll never know what made me chose then and there as an appropriate time and place when it was anything but. I've always had a knack for strange timing. Lying side-by-side on the hard, uninviting surface with hands clasped and shoulders pressed together in the aftermath of agony, I closed my hand around his,

" _I love you."_

It took me a moment to realize I'd said it out loud.

"… _Is this real?_ "

He needed rest. " _Don't worry about it. Get some rest, okay?"_

" _I've loved you for so long."_ He tried to turn his head and look at me, but it was unfortunately immobile. " _I wish I could see you right now."_

" _I'd rather you didn't. I don't think I'm much to look at today."_

" _I don't care."_

I'm aware that our species has attempted to "phase out", if you will, what humans would call a "sex drive". Funny how there are some things even the most advanced technology can't change. Yes, the Pak receptors help keep it to a rarity, most of the time. I won't get into neurological specifics, but suffice to say should you remove those receptors, emotions are strange and difficult to manage but they are well worth having. You undoubtedly have little interest in the happenings behind our bedroom door, and such discussion is irrelevant to the topic at hand. I bring it up only to tell you how worthwhile something called "love" is. Love is not synonymous with sex, keep in mind, though when the act in performed in the context of love, it's truly the most powerful feeling one can experience. Love is both a strength and a weakness; it makes you vulnerable at your very core but gives you the strength to do things you couldn't have imagined otherwise.

Which finally brings me to the reason for this message. I know this all sounds like nothing but circumlocution, but I've made it a point to address the previous topics in hopes that you'd be able to better understand what we need to do and why it has to be done.

We're leaving.

There are things _They_ want done that we cannot order. Yes, we've been insensitive and cruel and done things for which there is no forgiveness. Using the airlock as a trash chute for those who dare speak against us, sending soldiers off to die for one superficial reason or another, annihilating innocent victims of conquest pursued only to satisfy our destructive whims… both of us equally guilty of all Seven Deadly Sins, I think they're called, thousands of times over. We didn't start that way, and we haven't ended in a similar manner, but the middle of our reign are years I'm horrified to look back on. He is too; perhaps even more than I am. We had taken out our frustrations on the Empire. Our furniture as well, which is irrelevant bur true nonetheless. All I could feel in the daytime was anger and at night I was overwhelmed with grief. The "power" we had over the simple things only made it worse.

_They_ have demanded we order the termination of all "unfit" Irkens. To "help evolution along", as they put it. Any citizen under a certain height once they've stopped growing is unnecessary to the empire and will be put to death. Not that there's much room for it now, but They've been working to produce a technology to inhibit free will to be integrated into a smeet's Pak at birth. It's been successfully integrated into SIR units and I hear it shows promise. It works on sending some kind of pulse to the frontal cortex that effectively freezes one's ability to reason. Bad things are coming, and you deserve a warning.

Our escape will likely fail and we'll be caught, brainded "traitors" and found guilty of treason by the Control Brain, and executed on screens across the galaxy. You are the only one who can be trusted with the truth. Irk knows you have every reason to hate us and turn us in yourself. If we should make it to our rendezvous with the small resistance group we've been working with, and they manage to reconfigure our Paks operating system, the Control Brain will receive a message declaring that we've been deactivated. We'll send you instructions and any extra parts you might need to make the adjustments, if you should want to keep off Irk's radar. The new system works like a one-way mirror. You can see them, but they can't see you. The Pak functions normally, but there's no evidence of it and no way to trace it. It will also be best, regardless of your feelings toward us, if you changed the hard-wiring of any Irken equipment, to make sure you won't be found.

Think of this as a small fraction of the debt we owe you.

I hope someday our paths will cross again. Chances of survival are not in our favor, and every logical voice of reason is begging that I reconsider. I cannot listen to _Them,_ however, and I cannot afford to lose the only thing I'm living for. I made a promise I failed to keep many years ago. I look at him, and in spite of the overwhelming odds, I feel like the two of us have a fighting chance. I wish you could understand it. More than conquering a thousand worlds or sitting at the highest throne is the feeling I get when his eyes meet mine. I hope you find someone to love, and perhaps even someday, a way to forgive us. I hate to say it, but you're the last hope for the universe. Just don't blow it up, okay, Zim?

Sincerely,

Red

(try not to set too many things on fire this time.)


	2. Chapter 2

**-2-**

Large magenta-colored eyes ran across the glowing handheld screen as his mind languidly chewed on the words in front of him. This was the six hundred eighty-seventh time he'd read the same particular message from start to finish, and he found himself no closer to a proper understanding. His thoughts were slow and sluggish, as if caked with mud or shrouded in a thick haze, flowing like putty. Tucked away inside a nameless room within his underground labyrinth of a lair, the former Invader-turned-Food-Service-Drone sat with only his thoughts, a single message, and silence. He stared at the characters that made up the words that the sentences contained within the paragraphs displayed on the screen he held in his hands, and watched them blur until the text became one large glowing body against a black screen. He would curse under his breath, sigh, blink himself out of his stupor, and repeat the process for hours on end. It was only the occasional clanking and clicking of clumsy metal feet that reminded him there was indeed a world at all. And it was that thought that filled him with overwhelming dread.

If there was still a world, it meant that his former leaders had seriously asked him to save it. The same former leaders who, for three years, had exiled him to this miserable rock under the pretense of a mission while they sat back and laughed, broadcasting his ineptitude across all of Irk for sheer entertainment. Little more than a week ago, they had, without warning, ripped away everything he'd ever worked for. Everything single achievement he'd tried for, had been willing to _die_ for… all of it, dismissed and brushed aside with the wave of a hand.

Only to ask that he save the _universe_ days later.

He wouldn't have believed it. He would have snorted, and regarded it as another twisted joke, another turn of the knife in his back, another installment of his failure for their cute little TV show. Truthfully, when he'd managed to decode the encrypted data and saw the signature, he hadn't bothered to read it. Instead, he dialed the Massive directly and clenched the edge of the computer's control panel, seething and shaking with such force that the machine actually cried out in pain. It had been trying to tell him something all day, but since the lab was empty of brain parasites and mutant squids, it didn't top the list of priorities. His grip slackened somewhat, but it didn't make much of a difference once he discovered that his frequency was being jammed. He cursed and slammed his fist into the metal edge, hard enough to break the skin. Some bones, too, in all likelihood.

" _Augghhh… hey, that hurts, you know!" The machine shouted._

" _Computer, I want you to,"_

" _Sir, you have a message. Don't hurt me again. Please."_

" _I have no time to waste with some insignificant message!" he shouted, "I need to find an open frequency,"_

" _It's marked as 'Urgent', Sir."_

" _Urgent?"_

" _Yes, Sir._ _It's from Irk."_

_Zim_ _froze. "Well why didn't you say something! Open it, open this message now!"_

_The machine emitted a defeated sigh and did as it had been ordered._

It had taken several moments for the words and images flashing in front of him to make sense.

Bold type threatening to blind him, dramatic, italicized text so overwhelming that it might frantically leap from the page; photos and captions that assaulted the eye… it was all too much to take in at once. Zim had choked on the headline alone. He forgot how to breathe, and hadn't remembered until his Pak began to beep and let out a warning. His knees… he'd never felt them like this. He staggered three steps back and they gave out, buckling under him. The alien stayed where he had fallen, staring up at the enormous computer screen in pure shock at news that shouldn't have shaken him quite as much as it did, all things considered.

**AN EMPIRE IN ANGUISH**

_The Central Control Brain reported the deactivation of Irk's leaders, Tallest Red and Tallest Purple this morning at 0:11:29:19 on the nearby moon of Acerbitas. Details surrounding the pair's death have yet to be released to the public; however, hushed talk of their possible involvement in a plot against the Empire has begun to surface. They leave behind a long list of achievements, despite their tragically short reign._

It wasn't until GIR came to bother him some time later that he remembered the message he'd received earlier that morning. The robot had planned on turning it into lunch before Zim sprinted across the floor and tore it from his grip. GIR had fallen backwards with a start, bouncing twice on his behind before settling completely, looking up at his master with tears in his eyes.

Sometimes, Zim wondered how GIR could cry.

He had sighed and handed the sad little robot some Earth-monies, instructing him to buy whatever filthy Earth-food he wanted. The little SIR unit perked right up and snatched the green piece of paper out of his master's hand before dancing in place to whatever music he heard in his mind and dashed out of the room. Zim sighed and debated whether or not he ought to read the message at all.

Sitting in the chair where he had finished reading it for the six hundred eighty-seventh time, there was a part of him that wished he hadn't.

The part of him that wished he had let his slightly off-kilter sidekick make a meal out of Red's message knew he would not be able to ignore it. Whatever that message contained, part of Zim's mind knew it was not something that any good would come of. It also knew that his curiosity would get the best of him, as it always did. It seemed to taunt him now, ironically, by asking questions. First and foremost, it asked, should he believe it?

The longer he considered it, the more legitimate the message became. It had been composed entirely of non-Irken technology, encrypted with several different data matrices, each from a _different_ planet's native number and language system, and finally, a fingerprint and retinal scan, followed by a Pak ID check. There was no reason, logic insisted, to protect something to such an extent if it were little more than a joke. So much security would have, in the past, made him suspicious. If the Tallest were going to command him to jump off a bridge, he would have done so without questioning their motives. They didn't _need_ to give him a reason.

Zim didn't like to think about how tragically pathetic that was.

Their Paks had been deactivated as well, as far as Irk was concerned. He had the Computer monitoring the broadcast of every network frequency in and outside the Empire, only to find the information consistent. The circumstances they reported varied, but each one confirmed that Irk's leaders were dead. Two days of unchanging programming later, the Advisor to the Tallest was to make a public statement along with the Task Force team leader, releasing the details of the investigation concerning the pair's deactivation. The new Tallests had been chosen, and all but officially inaugurated. The ceremony was slated to take place the following night. According to the press, Irk would now answer to the Almighty Tallest Phthalo and Tallest Cyanine. Zim, for the first time, noticed how peculiar it was that no one had ever seen a Tallest _before_ the inauguration ceremony took place. The Great Measuring (he never understood what was so 'great' about calling together a group of the tallest Irkens in the Empire just to re-measure them) had taken place the day Red and Purple had been deactivated. Zim had choked on the sudden gasp caught in his throat when he heard Red's words echoing in his mind.

… _Taller Irkens make excellent soldiers, it's true. They can carry more weight, build more muscle, and last much longer in battle than one of short stature. It would seem only logical then, for a governing body interested in remaining behind the scenes and in control, to get rid of its most prominent threat._

A strange, impending dread had crept over him as he curled his short limbs close to his body and the unfamiliar sensation of helplessness settled in his stomach and sunk like lead. Everything felt stark and cold. Puzzled and paralyzed, all he could do, he decided, was wait. Wait not knowing what it was he was waiting for. Wait on something he couldn't be sure would ever come, or that he would even recognize if it should ever reach him. He was overwhelmed for a moment, the chaos in his mind steadily approaching critical mass while his heart pounded so heavily he felt aftershocks from each beat ripple through his throat. He tried to breathe steadily, to re-establish some kind of normal rhythm, but each short, convulsive effort to take in air and hold onto it failed to regulate his breathing. All those things that Red claimed had been done to him and his co-leader… Zim tried to ignore it. He heard in his mind the popping and crunching and cracking of bones and winced at the unexpected jolt that shot through his heaving chest. Was all that happening to these new leaders while he hid safely underground and away from the world? Had it been done _already_? Would they suffer it and align themselves with that phantom-like group he'd been told of? Was there truly a soul in the universe capable of happily serving the Nameless Men after having been put through the torture Red described? Would it matter, their true motivations, in the end, as long as they carried out the wishes of the Masters?

It was too much at once. Too much to handle, too much to confront, too much to accept. If his message had been written in earnest, Zim wasn't sure he would be able to live with what that meant. He felt like he might asphyxiate by suffocating on air.

Slowly, each gasping breath began to draw more and more air into his lungs than the one before it. He noticed as his breathing finally became smoother and more even that he was trembling. Turbulent shudders wracked his tiny frame, but he preferred them over respiratory complications. Shaking, he could handle as a nervous tic. Forgetting how to breathe, on the other hand, was not going to be particularly harmless. He sighed, hugging his knees to his shuddering frame and to anyone else, would have looked like a tiny ball of green, black, and a unique shade of pink. Zim was accustomed to feeling short, but taking a panoramic glance of the vast expanse of empty void that filled the room, he had never felt so very… small.

It wasn't too long before he was thankfully distracted by GIR, who was carrying a neat, compact, obviously-from-space transport container, instead of a new piggy friend to make his acquaintance. Considering the way things had been going, Zim briefly thought that he might've preferred the piggy.

" _Look, Master! Somebody sent you a present!" The robot said excitedly._

_Zim_ _just nodded and sighed._

_GIR brought himself to a screeching halt and cocked his head to the sides in confusion. "Awww, wassa matter? Don't you like gettin' presents? Like when we got that big 'ol robot with the chicken legs! Does this one have chicken legs, too!"_

" _Probably not, GIR."_

" _Aww."_

_Zim_ _stared at the floor with no real interest and the thermos-headed robot stood watching his master. This lasted much longer than it should have. He looked up to see GIR standing in the same spot, watching him watch the floor with a puzzled expression._

" _What?"_

"… _Don't'cha want your present?" He said, holding the box out toward Zim._

No, no he knew what it was and he didn't want it. There was nothing else it could be. He didn't want to be right. For the first time, Zim wished he were wrong. That GIR had made a mistake and taken the neighbor's mail again, or there was another mix-up at the Postal Planet, or the Dib-monkey was playing another trick on him; something, _anything_ that wasn't the instructions and repair parts for his Pak. He wanted a joke. He wanted to open it and see a hologram of the nasty, sarcastic Tallest Red, pointing and laughing. He wanted anything that wouldn't mean the aforementioned former Tallest had been telling the truth….

If he opened that box and found what Red had told him he'd find, it meant that he hadn't lied about it. It meant that he hadn't lied in the message at all. It meant that all this was _really_ happening.

Zim couldn't bear thinking about what that implied.

" _Aren't you gonna open it?"_

He didn't feel himself reach out and take the package from GIR's metal claws. His mind was tangled in knots, like jewelry haphazardly strewn in a drawer, necklaces tangled together, and he was trying to pull the finest, thinnest chain free of the mess. It asked for authorization, and his stomach dropped.

'Passed out' wasn't precisely what happened; it was more like 'went numb' or 'went away', meaning that everything around him spun, he felt he would be sick in a matter of seconds (his only thought in this whole process occurred when he idly wondered if GIR would function as a trashcan), and he found himself unable to move his body. Not that he had any particular location in mind.

All feeling drained from his limbs. He stared at the set of tools and spare parts in front of him. Wide, terrified eyes moved over an instruction manual.

He watched his arm tentatively reach out to the instruction screen. He watched as his hands lifted it from the transport crate and switched it on. It quickly buzzed to life, greeting him with a friendly, non-threatening:

**Hi!**

**Welcome to _NoPak_ (patent pending), the Irken Pak Reformatting Program and Operating System Interface!**

_Congratulations! You are just a few easy steps away from installing_ NoPak _(patent pending)!_ NoPak _(patent pending) is designed to run all Pak programs and functions, without the hassle of being monitored by the Irken Empire._

**Good Luck!**

NoPak _technology and all associated trademarks herein are currently patent pending under Intergalactic Law and are not for distribution without explicit permission of Resisty Technology._

Zim watched as his finger pressed against the print-protected screen to continue. He was a thousand miles away.

_It's everything you'll need for the repairs. We trust you._

_-R_

_Just to make it clear, we didn't think up their stupid name. They can help you, though._

_-P_

GIR said words, but all he could hear were distant sounds.

" _What happened, Master, don't you like your present?"_

And here he was, having read through the message that had disrupted _everything_ for the six hundred eighty-seventh time. He had made the repairs to his Pak, but nothing could repair the damage done to his soul. He felt betrayed when the former Tallest had revealed the true motivation behind his joke of a 'mission'. They'd been ruthless in their berating his failure. They had laughed at him, and all of Irk laughed with them. He had been filled with humiliation and rejection, but what he'd felt then was only a fraction of what now consumed him entirely.

So what, his mission was a lie? Every single fraction of every moment of his entire existence had been manipulated. He, and every other member of his race, had been deceived since they had first hatched. Everything he had ever pledged allegiance to was a façade. The Tallest may have lied to him about his mission, but _They_ … whoever they were, had made Irkens into their _servants_. A trash compactor had more dignity than an Irken, and he balled his fists in disgust; he hated _Them_ , and he hated that he couldn't hate the Tallest more than he hated these nameless Irkens who had so fundamentally betrayed their people.

Blind fury pulsed behind his eyes at the thought of what they'd done… especially to his Tallest – _former_ Tallest… Red and Purple? Whatever he was supposed to call them now. He despised the sympathy he felt for them. He hated the rage that caused his fists to clench when he remembered Red's account of the suffering they had both endured at _Their_ hands. The two hadn't been threats, enemies, prisoners of war, or even politically incorrect. Just unlucky enough to be the two tallest Irkens in the Empire.

Whatever this "love" was that Red had spoken of, it was decidedly a much more profound phenomena than what he knew of human affection. It was true, Zim did not understand what Red had been talking about, and while he found it most synonymous with "insanity", he would conjure the image of his former leader getting to his feet after his body had been broken, stretched, and bruised, clawing his way to Purple's side, only to be close enough to comfort him. He couldn't identify with the feeling that had motivated Red, but he had a sense of how strong it must have been, since it was greater than the astounding amount of pain he had likely fought through.

It made him uncomfortable to imagine them like that. Weak. Powerless. As much as he wanted revenge for his own suffering, he knew it was an absurd thing to demand. He thought of how painful and tragic the lie that they'd suffered had been. They had felt the same confusion and betrayal that he was feeling now, but Zim knew he could never hope grasp the extent of how completely and totally destroyed they had been by those lies.

He hated that sympathy! It was something he'd never felt before and never wanted to feel again. He wished that they had just blown up the planet instead of asking him to save it, along with the rest of the universe. Zim had never succeeded in anything but destruction, and he always ended up destroying what he'd been fighting for. Like a black cat constantly crossing your path or a freak accident in a house of mirrors, Zim was a curse that followed you to the grave once he stepped into your sight.

Three years to conquer one planet with the collective IQ of a hotdog, and Zim was here; holed up underground with a message and a plate of muffins GIR had brought him yesterday. Muffins. That meant today would be mashed potatoes. Or mashed-potato-flavored muffins. Anything was possible when GIR was involved.

He sighed and picked up the handheld screen.

Six hundred eighty-eight.

* * *

" _Do you think there's a chance that any of us will come out of this alive?"_

"… _I don't know."_

" _So basically, what you're saying is that we're all doomed."_

" _That wasn't what I said at all."_

" _Please. I've been decoding Red-speak for years."_

" _I have my own language now?"_

" _Yes."_

" _You're insane."_

" _And you're deflecting."_

" _It's a stupid question, Pur. Why worry about how bad it's going to be before we've assessed how bad it is now?"_

" _That wasn't my question. …I want to know if you think we've got a shot at making it out of this at least partially intact."_

"… _Zim might."_

" _He_ is _pretty indestructible."_

" _Yeah."_

" _You're worried."_

" _Aren't you?"_

" _Of course I'm worried, but that's not what I meant."_

" _What_ did _you mean?"_

" _You're worried that it didn't reach him. Or that he's going to think it's a joke."_

" _I miss the days when I used to be able to fool you."_

" _You never fooled me, Red. But I pretended for you anyway."_

" _Purple, I need you to promise me something."_

" _You already know I'll do whatever you ask me."_

" _If something happens to me, I need to know that you'll keep going. In every regard."_

" _How charmingly cliché, Red."_

" _I don't care_ what _it is. I want your word."_

" _Well, I want a box of donuts and you don't see me acting out dramatic motion-capture scenes."_

" _I can't believe I'm hearing this!"_

" _Since you're going to be playing the hero, I suppose that makes me the heroine, doesn't it? Is this is the part of the story where I get all weepy and pine for you, because if it is, I think I missed my cue!"_

" _Don't you dare get caustic with me!"_

" _Don't be so selfish and I won't!"_

" _I swear on everything that was ever sacred to any creature in the universe, Purple, if I didn't love you so much, I would take a swing at you right now."_

" _Funny, if it were me, I'd have hit you a hell of a lot_ earlier _than now."_

" _What the_ fuck _has gotten into you!_ _All I'm trying to do is keep you safe and it makes me_ selfish _?"_

" _Have you ever even stopped to_ consider _what my life would be like without you, Red?"_

" _You'd be all right."_

" _This is exactly what I mean. I've known you for practically my entire life, and after everything we've been through… you're my entire world, Red. Everything I have ever been is contained in you and you alone. More than the wretched piece of machinery on my back that keeps me breathing, you're the only thing that keeps me functioning. I would rather die_ with _you, Red, than try to live_ without _you. And you just can't seem to wrap your head around just how much pain losing you would cause me! I'd rather suffer through the process of being fitted for the armor until it killed me! I love you, you stubborn little fuck!"_

"…"

"… _I'm sorry. I… I shouldn't have,"_

" _Don't. You're right. I know because that's exactly how I feel about you. Only, I wouldn't call you a 'stubborn fuck'."_

"…"

" _I'd call you a 'bullshit cretin'."_

" _Oh, aren't you hilarious."_

" _One of us has to keep a sense of humor."_

"… _I shouldn't have gotten so angry with you. I know you were only trying to protect me. I know… what it means to you. No matter what you think, you've never failed."_

" _How about this, then?_ _Let's keep it simple and save the drama and see this through to the end."_

" _I thought you said there wasn't any hope."_

" _There's Zim."_

" _If anyone could beat such overwhelming odds, it would have to be him."_

" _And he's practically a walking explosion. … God, I hope he doesn't kill us."_

" _You warned him about that, right?"_

" _Yes."_

"' _Cause while he's pretty much all we've got, he could easily destroy the universe while doing laundry."_

" _I think we've worried about enough for one night. Let's go to bed and pretend the world isn't falling apart for a while."_

" _How do you actually accomplish that?"_

" _I don't know. But I'll tell you when I figure it out."_

" _I don't think I can do this, Red."_

" _It doesn't matter. You have to."_

" _You think they'll find out?"_

" _About what?"_

" _Us."_

" _Don't torture yourself with questions like that. Just… take it one second at a time, okay?"_

" _I'll try – hey, did you hear that?"_

" _Hear what?"_

" _Shit, Red, somebody's outside the door!"_

" _You need to calm down, you're making yourself,"_

_CLICK_

_CREEEEEEEK_

" _There you are. We were starting to think maybe you two really_ did _die somewhere. Hah. …No, I guess it's not all that funny from your perspective, is it? I've got some…_ people _that want to see you, so you had better come with me. …By the way, you ought to be carrying weapons. There ain't a damn thing either of you can do in your pretty little robes. About as threatening as a dress-up doll, you are. Let's get going, they don't like to wait."_

* * *

 

**useless** **information:**

**11-29-19** was my high school locker combination

**Acerbitas** is the Latin word for "flee", I think

**Phthalocyanines** are chemically-based pigments (shades of green and blue). They're also _really_ overpowering in comparison to other pigments. I learned this lesson the hard way.

**GIR's** **chicken-legs comment** is a reference to the episode " _Megadoomer"_ … why I found that particular GIR moment so hilarious is really beyond my understanding.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit of mature content at the end of this one, so if you don't like it, skip it!

**-3-**

_"Fuck, you inconsiderate little waste-of-space!"_ Red shouted, taking large, panicked breaths, wearing an infuriated expression on his face. _"We'll see how helpless it looks when I rip your fucking head off!"_ He clenched his hands in tight fists, " _Does your species have_ any _rules of etiquette_ at all? _It's called 'knocking', okay?!_ _You know, when you bang on the door a few times before barging in and scaring people to death?!"_

The creature whose brain floated above his broad shoulders, sporting green armor made a nervous gesture with his hands and shifted his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. _"I guess I forgot... the Captain an' Shloonktapooxis said it was important. Sorry 'bout that. Didn't mean to spook ya or nothing, I just wouldn't feel safe walkin' around without weapons if I was either of ya. Probably shouldn't be wearin' them dresses no more, neither. Stands out too much. Someone might recognize ya an' all hell will break loose."_

Red barely registered the Resisty soldier's response. His attention was instead focused on his purple-eyed counterpart, who had slipped into a state that Red had only witnessed on maybe three or four occasions in all their time together. There were very few situations in which he would find himself without an inkling of how to respond to his partner.

This was definitely one of them.

He wanted to do _something_ , but he definitely did not want to do the _wrong_ thing. Purple looked as volatile as a flammable substance within the proximity of Zim, and the last thing he wanted was to strike a match. Considering the progression of their prior conversation, he knew that right now Purple was the equivalent of a bomb with no specific trigger, and cutting the wrong wire in an attempt to diffuse him under these particular circumstances could easily have highly explosive results. On the other hand, he feared that by responding in the wrong way, he might cause Purple to _implode_ rather than _explode_. He worried that the wrong course of action might blow a fuse somewhere, causing his partner to short-circuit and completely malfunction. That he would essentially blue-screen and shut down without the ability to reboot.

Red sometimes wondered what effects the emotions he experienced had on his Pak, in terms of pure functionality. The Pak had been designed to override and mediate biological functions, and later, to manipulate and tailor said functions. If it could work one way, why not the other? He'd taken one apart before (they were required to learn how each mechanism functioned, but only with respect to those necessary for survival) but, very much like the brain of any species, it was extremely delicate and complex. Since there was no way to justify the pursuit of these topics under military research, he had he had never been able to test any of his strange hypotheses. He had studied the machine for years, and while he did manage to discover quite a bit of overall knowledge, most of it came from contrasting things that he observed about the machine's technical workings with what random insights Purple would offer, if he'd read something that struck him in one of his books.

Red was especially proficient when it came to understanding the inner workings of machines. He could disassemble virtually anything given to him, and then reassemble it perfectly without hesitating for an instant. It seemed contradictory that he was compelled to fight against a race that sought to eventually _become_ machines, as they were the one thing that made absolute and unquestionable sense to him.

Sometimes, he wished Purple were as easy to repair as a piece of technology; replace a chip here and there, re-insulate the wires, close him up and he'd be good as new. Solve his problems with the ease of a few simple calculations. It would make life infinitely less complicated.

Red had to admit, though, that Purple was beautiful in his complexity. He operated outside the normal boundaries and defied expectations; he contradicted assumptions without actively making an effort to distinguish himself. He was truly a singular individual. His interests, opinions, behaviors, processes, thoughts… they were all so completely distinct from Red's. He loved the way his former co-ruler saw the world, and all the hope he had for it.

Red thought in formulas; systems of equations with definite solutions. His results were predictable and easy to anticipate; points plotted on a graph that would ultimately establish a well-organized pattern. Purple had redefined the equations on which Red had based his life, entirely. Even now, everything he did was as unexpected as it had been when they first met.

It was Purple's unpredictability that had always left the greatest impression on Red. Whether absurdly puerile, like the time they'd constructed puppets entirely from cardboard that had managed to fool Zim; or dangerously inappropriate, like a certain dinner party Red wasn't _ever_ likely to forget, during which his partner found it particularly impossible to keep his hands to himself; Purple had really only one constant within all the variables that made up all that was uniquely him.

Red knew _he_ was that constant.

His partner's complicated mind fascinated him, but he could not deny that there were moments when he would still ache for a simple solution. It never came, but he continued to hope nonetheless.

With concerned, nervous eyes he leaned toward Purple, extremely cautious of maintaining each other's personal space. He kept a distance that was not close enough to appear threatening, but not far enough to seem apprehensive. _"…Sweetheart? Are you okay?"_

The soldier, appropriately-named "Hoverbrain", showed no sign that he'd heard the term of endearment slip off Red's tongue. He seemed to be humming to himself, actually. How such a thing were possible, Red had not the faintest clue, but recently stopped trying to make sense of the impossible.

_"Wonderful, Red."_ The purple-clad Irken answered through clenched teeth.

Red immediately diverted the focus to Hoverbrain, hoping that doing so would shift his partner's attention so he would not have to bear the full weight of Purple's wrath. " _Thanks for the advice. Shouldn't we be going somewhere? You were so anxious to find us, after all."_

He had rarely seen the Irken lose his temper violently, but the few times Red had seen him with a similar expression…

…well, they had been rather messy to clean up.

He hated to dwell on it. He wasn't sure what was worse, really; knowing that he and his partner had committed such horrible atrocities, or, that he rarely gave thought to them anymore. It was a horrifying, hopeless feeling that haunted him at the close of each day, when he would be alone with Purple and the façade and bravado would disappear. His conscience would settle in, and all the violence and destruction he was personally responsible for dealing would flood through him anew, and it would sicken him. There were countless nights spent in a sorry little sobbing heap, collapsed on the bathroom floor with a single event running through his head in perfect color and sound. The reel of images in his mind would play on loop, without a sign of when they might relent, and every time they started over, he felt a piece of himself die. He would become physically ill as he choked on sobs that came too fast and too hard for his lungs to keep up with; tears poured down his face; his body heaved and retched as if it were trying to expel something toxic, as if this terrible thing was a sickness he was dying from. Purple would cry with him, always at his side to coax or comfort or clean up after him. Red always felt an acute sense of humiliation after the intensity of his emotions would wear off and he'd suddenly remember where he was and the spectacle he'd just made of himself, and that it had been in front of Purple. Without fail, though, he'd always feel a washcloth rest gently on his forehead for a few moments before the other would wipe it across his cheeks and down his face, always whispering comforting words, always without ever being asked.

Eventually, though, the transformations from private to public persona became too much to bear, like a twisted Jekyll-and-Hyde complex. There would be no rush of power, no pulsating bloodlust, and no sadistic pleasure once the door to their private chambers closed at the end of the day. All there _would_ be was a scared little boy standing far too tall, trembling in fear and regret.

He had come to learn that some lines are not meant to be crossed. Certain boundaries must be minded and maintained. There is no action that does not provoke another event, whether large or small. There are consequences that cannot be anticipated. There comes, for everyone, a single moment that changes everything. A decision that must be made; and in that moment, one becomes fully responsible for course their lives will take. In that instant, one gives birth to the end of their journey. Every creature blessed with consciousness must face the point from which there is no return.

Red was confident in the choice they had made. They could not live with what was coming, not on top of the weight of all the regret that they would always be bound to, like shackles sewn into their skin; a ball and chain fastened to their bones. They had no legitimate alibi, and there was a universe of witnesses who would not permit them the luxury of perjury.

Being robbed of their innocence did not make them innocent.

They were all too aware of the blood that stained their hands. Warm, slippery, liquid life running between their long fingers had seeped into their pores, under their skin, and would never allow for them to be clean.

_"This had better be as_ important _as you say it is."_ Purple muttered angrily, glaring daggers at the green-suited creature, who was incredibly uncomfortable, to say the least.

* * *

Nervous fingers drummed impatiently on the smooth surface beneath them. He was anxious and did not bother with the pretense to conceal it. He felt strange; as if the he were the object of scrutiny in thousands of eyes that bore down into the depths of his very soul. The sound of his lightly tapping claws seemed to thunder and resound through the main deck of the ship. It was irrational, he knew; especially since his frequent, over-the-shoulder glances confirmed that the others were busy with their own various tasks, completely unaware of his presence.

He felt the overwhelming urge to let out a throat-rupturing scream and claw out of his own skin.

He refrained from doing so, mainly because he assumed that it would probably draw attention, which was something he'd been trying to stay away from. It might also involve further bodily disfigurement and cause several other somewhat severe problems for him, and he certainly did not need any more of those to add to his rapidly-growing collection.

It felt like quicksand. Like the ground beneath him had suddenly been swallowed whole; rhythmically disappearing deeper and deeper into nothingness as if by means of peristalsis. The sand had crept up to his knees before he had been able to notice it was there. He struggled against it, tried to cry out, but there was no one to hear him and the harder he fought against the process, the faster and deeper he drowned. He was barely holding his head high enough to keep himself breathing… and every day, he felt it pulling him under.

Every day, he felt himself sink just a little farther down.

With a sigh, he reached out for the cardboard cup of coffee that had been sitting in front of him for quite some time now. Clumsy, shaking hands nearly caused it to spill onto the table; something that caught the attention of the person seated at his right. He hung his head and cursed under his breath. He did not need this right now.

"Whoa… hey, are you sure you want to be drinking that?"

"Well, I thought I did."

"You haven't slept."

"What's your point? …And how do you know that?"

A smile, "My point is that stuff is only going to keep you awake. And I sleep next to you, dear."

"Yeah, but I don't see how you know what I'm doing while you're unconscious."

He closed his eyes, sighed, and threaded his claws between the ones that the other had been drumming against the table. "I haven't been getting much sleep, myself, lately."

"Why didn't you just say something?"

"Why didn't _you_?"

"I didn't want to you to worry about it, Red. We've got enough problems right now as it is. My whining won't do either of us much good. It'd just be another thing on our list of 'everything that's gone to hell'."

A tone that would've incited an argument made the former Tallest's eyes soften. "Yes, but unlike most of our other concerns at the moment, I think that this is a problem we can easily solve."

He was not taken by surprise when Red leaned in close, nor was he a stranger to the feeling of his partner's lips on his. He was, however, completely unaccustomed to these two events occurring simultaneously in the public domain. The violet-eyed Irken effectively fell off his chair in an ungraceful flailing spasm, breaking the short kiss before quickly getting to his feet; brushing himself off and coughing in response to the few heads that turned toward them. He folded his arms across his chest and glowered down at Red, who sported a grin that was by no means innocent.

"You're adorable when you're mad, you know that?"

"Are you _trying_ to get us killed?!"

The grin never wavered, despite Purple's agitated tone. "We're not on Irk anymore, remember? I can hold your hand without risking both of us facing the firing squad." He reached for the other's waist and urged him to step closer, pouting childishly. Purple rolled his eyes and allowed Red to navigate his path by following the direction that the hands on his waist urged him toward, which was a journey of a few steps forward. The red-eyed former leader stared up at his partner with the same pleading, childlike expression, and in a similar manner, lightly tugged on the skirt of the robes that Purple was currently wearing; the same "traditional" garments they had sported for decades. He patted his lap and indicated for Purple to sit down. Purple decided to humor the other Irken, mostly because he found himself rather amused by his playful behavior. Red smiled happily and wrapped his arms firmly around Purple's waist.

"I know I'm overdoing it. I'd just rather have you upset with me than upset over the alternatives. …And it's kinda fun to traumatize Lard Nar."

Purple grinned for a moment and let out a short sigh. "I'm not used to… this." He said, indicating their embrace and then the crowd who stood oblivious. "We worked so hard to keep it a secret for so long… old habits, you know?"

He had never really considered what life might be like for them outside the Irken system. Sure, he indulged in the occasional flight of fancy every once and again; allowing himself to create impossibly perfect happy-ended fairytale stories where they'd run away together, or some strange freak disaster would happen to befall _Them_ _,_ and the two former Tallest would be free to do as they pleased _._ He had imagined it countless times, millions of ways. At a grand assembly of mandatory attendance,

CRASH

and the roof would cave in. During some sacred ritual, practiced deep, deep under ground, someone would knock a candle over,

BAM

it would fall into a footprint made from the fuel one of them had stepped in after filling up his ship; inside the closed quarters and under the pressure from gravity, they'd all combust and never be heard from again. Collected for a dinner party,

CLANK

malfunctioning SIR units would tear them apart and eat all their food. At a group vacation on a faraway planet,

BOOM

Zim, causing an explosion of some kind. _They_ would be gone. He and Red would expose the truth, give Irk back Her history and restore Her dignity. They'd change the policies and restrictions, particularly regarding the concept of affection as something that was not illegal or illicit or against their nature. No matter how the story went, it always ended the same way.

Red had always accused him of being too romantic.

With a smile in his eyes and a sigh from his lips, Purple lightly caressed the other's face. Red closed his eyes and leaned into his partner's touch, making a soft purring sound in his throat.

They used to whisper in the darkness long ago, when they had first been inaugurated, talk of running away. Ways they might succeed in escaping the awful prison to which they were sentenced. It stopped being tactical and over the years, became a story they would tell each other to pass the time before daylight. The talks started to become rarer as time went by, and then the topic was off-limits and absolutely never touched by either of them. Violating the orders they received came at a price they had been far too naive to anticipate. He remembered exactly when and precisely why, though neither of them ever spoke of it.

There are some things that not even lovers should speak of.

Even if they were to discuss it aloud, there would be nothing to say because there were no words that could ever really provide an accurate description of how it felt, or what it had meant. If there was no language that could properly articulate what they felt compelled to say, what else could have been done? Neither of them had particularly _wanted_ to think about it, much less think about how to discuss it, or of a means to examine it in depth. The desire to forget the event, to pretend that it had all been a dream, had been shared by both of them. How they had so tried to will it away, as if keeping it silent would prevent a spontaneous recall. They desperately hoped that simply by omitting it from the history they shared, it would be rendered invalid because no mention of it would be there when they looked back.

Purple had tried once to bring it up, after what he considered to be appropriate time passed, but all he managed was an awkward stumble of syllables, fragments of fractured words he had tried to string together without success. Somehow, though, despite the genuine incoherence in the sounds that spilled from his mouth, his partner had understood exactly what he had meant to say. Red had shut himself off in that moment, pointedly explained that he didn't want to talk about it in a tone that really said 'I'm _not going to_ talk about it', and walked off.

Red rarely did that sort of thing now. He no longer had reservations about being honest with his former co-Tallest, and kept very few things to himself. One thing that had not changed, however, was his unwillingness to address anything from the past. Purple generally did not give much thought to those topics anymore. There was no appropriate time or place that they could be properly addressed, since virtually every room and corridor they had access to on the Massive and elsewhere had been under constant surveillance. The only available option was one that Purple refused to consider. He was not going to bring those things into their bedroom and allow them to damage again what had taken so much time to rebuild. He was also fairly certain that painful memories would not make for appropriate pillow-talk. He felt neither dire need nor a pressing urgency to speak about these things, and concluded that they were perhaps best left where they were. Whenever he found himself with something troubling on his mind and entertaining the idea of mentioning it to his partner, he always caught himself wondering the same thing:

Would stirring up ghosts help put them to rest?

Purple was always very quiet on those days.

He remembered, though. Intense and bright and perfectly clear, as if he was a spectator of his own life, or the audience member far too engaged in the motion capture-playback; the person who was always standing up and shouting at the events unfolding before his eyes, trying to warn the characters in vain. He would be, at the same time, re-living the moment exactly as it had happened. Every pain was just as sharp as it had been in reality. He anticipated everything and yet, he still felt the same fear and shock that had existed long ago.

He wondered sometimes, if perhaps Red's memory was just as sharp and vivid, and if that was why he seemed so cold when Purple had tried to open those types of discussions. It had seemed so strange of Red; even though he had made no literal mention of the event, there was something in the way he spoke when he had proposed the notion of running away, that dug up a memory he was sure they had both intended to keep buried.

It had been the first time that they had ever attempted to resist. Long, long before Operation Impending Doom was ever conceived, they had been instructed to conquer a small, allied planet. They hadn't wanted to, but they obeyed all the same. It was when the order came to demolish all existing life from the surrendered planet that they found themselves unable to comply. He remembered how they planned their escape together; a clever operation unfortunately aborted before ever being executed. It had only been a matter of hours before they found themselves again standing before the black-cloaked bastards who had broken what little they had and never so much as bothered to look back.

_They_ wasted no time in getting to the point. It took four to hold Red back when they dragged Purple to his feet and quickly bound his claws in front of him. It had happened so abruptly, he wasn't sure that there would have been time to resist even if he'd been able to react faster. _They_ moved with routine precision, never flinching or missing a step. It was a process that in retrospect had been executed as one smooth motion. A terrible dance performed with frightening efficacy. One dark figure on either side of him maintained a bruising hold and rendered Purple's efforts to struggle free completely useless. Another, the one they presumed to be the leader, moved to stand behind him.

Though neither of them had been able to see what he was doing, the high-pitched beep and the whirring sound that they both instantly recognized immediately sent a pulse of pure terror straight to their hearts. A paralyzing chill shot through them, freezing the blood in their veins; converting the structures to long stalks of solid channels from which stemmed little deltas ending in thin, fragile tendrils beneath the ominous shadow of a looming wrecking ball.

**_"WARNING._ ** **_PAK HAS LOST COMMUNICATION WITH ITS HOST."_ **

**_"TEN MINUTES TO DOOM"_ **

The nine minutes and forty-eight seconds they'd been taunted had been unbearable. Purple did not think he'd ever seen his counterpart so genuinely hysterical. He'd almost forgotten about his own predicament, watching Red choke and sob and scream as he helplessly continued to wrench free of a grip he was far too weak to break. He, himself, had tried in vain, but without his Pak, Purple knew that his resistance would yield no effective results. He remembered the feeling as his body slowly began to shut down. First, it had been his motor functions and coordination, followed by his speech. His vision blurred as his breathing grew shallower with each small, rapid inhale. Sounds were ringing so loudly that he knew if he were able to breathe properly, he'd have collapsed and vomited by now. He _felt_ his eyes roll back into his head, which was a sensation he could never really put words to.

Purple knew why _They'd_ chosen to remove his Pak rather than Red's. He'd attempted to apologize so many times for it, but Red just wouldn't listen. He never understood _what_ Purple was trying to explain, or _why_ he still felt such a degree of guilt, but without the right words, how could he ever hope to make sense? Red had been forced to suffer so much, and every time, Purple was reminded of how entirely responsible he was for it. If he had only been stronger, or braver, or more resilient, they might have stood a chance. If he had not been so cowardly, he might have been able to protect Red from _something_ , or at the very least, perhaps he could have spared him from so much agony, so soon. He hadn't, though, and it had all been his fault. If he only could have stopped crying, Red would never have done what he did, and they might not have been so helpless.

It did not take a sophisticated mind to discern that if Red was willing to walk twenty feet after those terrible procedures, without anesthetics, for Purple, there probably were not many things that he _wouldn't_ do for him.

Especially if his life was on the line.

They would never be able to repair the damage that had been done to their bodies, and they both knew it. The Resisty, which still didn't escape Purple's lips without _some_ hint of distain, had access to an underground medical facility where many of the doctors on Irk's 'most wanted' list could be found. Hopeful expressions and kind words attempted in vain to mask the impossibility of rehabilitation. No one could imagine that there was anything that could be done to repair the sternum damage. The bone had been set in a peculiar position and to re-break it would risk severe internal damage and most likely puncture the heart or lungs. They could only assume bitterly that this "side effect" had been completely intentional. From the x-rays done on the ship, the doctors noticed that Red's had never healed correctly in the first place. Something shifted a few millimeters forward, and overall, it was larger in area than Purple's had appeared; as if he'd sustained some additional trauma before the break had been given enough time to start healing, and thus healed according to the new trauma pattern. Red had averted his eyes almost guiltily and Purple had stared in heartbroken disbelief, asking the doctor what could have caused it.

_"You have to understand, Sir, that we're not talking about the kind of damage done with a sternum-spreader or a surgical implement… for medical use, anyway. It was broken once down the middle, but not neatly, and the fracture patterns around it suggest that it was crushed and then,"_

_"I was there, I remember how they broke my bones."_ He spat in a short, impatient voice _, "Tell me why his didn't heal like mine."_ The trembling behind his words could not be concealed.

_"Both breaks are identical. The discrepancies in your x-rays could only be the result of either being set differently, or not immobilized for long enough."_

_"…Immobilized?"_ The single word was barely audible, spoken with no breath in its syllables.

_"Yes. When a bone is reset, it should not be moved until the body has repaired the damage enough to prevent compromising the injury. It is very easy for the break to shift, and if that happens, it will heal according to the way it's been compromised. Did that make sense?"_

The former co-leader of the most destructive race in the universe, save the Slaughtering Rat People of Blorch, sat silently rooted in a moment of deep shock before tears began to well behind his eyes. The ship's Vortian captain had nearly fainted when he saw them beginning to fall silently down the Irken's cheeks. His assistant, who reminded both Irkens of what the bastard child of an oversized soft-drink and a sno-cone might look like, and kept insisting that they change their name to "Pirate Monkeys" (a name Purple decided, after much deliberation, was indeed, still better than "the Resisty", and campaigned for the switch himself) looked as if someone's head (possibly even his own) might explode. The doctor on the vidscreen tried his best not to look as surprised and off guard as he felt, but none of their reactions were noticed anyway.

_"Hey… come on, Pur, we're both fine, okay? It doesn't matter."_ Red tried gently, raising a hand to the other's face.

_"Of course it matters! Look at that, that's not fine at all, Red! Does it_ look _fine to you?"_ His tone wasn't loud or abrasive in the slightest; rather he spoke in a guilt-ridden sadness. _"You're so stupid! I_ told you _it was stupid, why did you do that?!"_ He raised a hand, presumably to hit the object of his tirade, but he could barely manage to swat away the hand Red had laid on his face. He clung to familiar red robes and pulled himself close, crying a fresh stream of tears as he pressed his head to his partner's chest.

_"I'm sorry, Red, I'm sorry… I should've… I shouldn't have been such a coward…"_

Arms closed around the Irken who seemed to be trying to bury himself in his chest. _"If that's what you really think, then_ you're _the stupid one. You never would have survived all that if you were weak or pathetic, or whatever it is that you think you were. Don't be sorry. At all, okay?"_ He coaxed softly, _"And I already told you why I did it, Pur."_ He paused and listened to the other as his breathing steadied and his tears began to stop. _"You know they gave you the good table."_

Purple laughed in his arms. _"Yours must've been terrible."_

Red rolled his eyes melodramatically, _"You have no idea."_

_"All right,"_ He sighed, regaining his composure as best he could, _"Let's get the rest of this over with."_

They turned toward the three shocked, horrified, and perplexed faces that stared at them, gaping. Purple went to say something, and then realized he wasn't sure _what_ he could say to justify the display they'd just witnessed. Luckily, Red took care of it.

_"Oh please. Don't tell me you didn't see it coming."_

The Vortian shook himself from his stare. _"Well, it's… er, well, it's rather… unusual to see Irkens showing… affection… or saying 'Irkens' and 'affection' in the same sentence…."_

Red just rolled his eyes. _"That's because it's a considered criminal offence."_

_"Wow, you're in a_ whole lot _more trouble than I thought! Those guys you were talkin' about must_ hate _you!"_ Said the ever-tactful soft-drink-sno-cone creature, Shloonktapooxis.

Purple sighed. _"If they find out we're alive, we're beyond screwed."_

_"And not in a particularly satisfying way."_ Red added with suggestive eyes and a devious expression that left no doubts as to what he meant to imply.

After an unpleasantly awkward pause, the doctor on the vidscreen coughed and continued with his report as though the previous interruption never happened, going on to say that there were two procedures that _might_ alleviate the stress on their necks, perhaps a vitamin that could help strengthen their spines and an injection that would help restore the cartilage in between the separated discs. The only real repairs that could be made for certain would be to their limbs. They'd undergo muscle stimulation and physical therapy and eventually regain the full use and mobility. Though they had worn considerably, they were not nearly as atrophied as the doctor had presumed they would be. Red had explained that they did a lot of heavy physical activity in their downtime, which sufficiently disturbed the room's occupants, with the exception of Purple, who simply looked like he wanted to die.

The doctor maintained that they ought to continue wearing the armor and traditional garments on a regular basis until he could determine the actual extent of their condition. He countered their protests by explaining that regardless of having spent …sufficient time, according to Red, out of their armor in the past, it had never been for more than a few hours at a time. There was no way he could tell from the x-rays alone what might happen after an extended period of time. It was not outside the realm of possibility, he said, in the event that they remained out of their armor too long, for their necks to collapse, unable to support the unfamiliar, sudden, and constant strain of their heads, resulting in suffocation. The thought terrified them more than either would willingly admit.

Living in a state of constant fear, of completely justified and overwhelming paranoia, became second nature after long enough. No matter how simple it was in dreams to imagine how wonderful it would be to escape, the realization of their freedom came at a price. He was never told that the baggage from his previous life would carry over into the domain of his new one.

A sigh broke through his scattered thoughts.

"You think too much."

Purple shrugged. "One of us has to." He said with joking eyes.

Red smirked, "Look at you, charming _and_ witty. Now stop before you make me blush."

Purple rolled his eyes. "Oh, I could go on all day, I'm sure."

"Could you now?"

"All night, even."

"I'm going to kiss you, you know that, right?"

"I figured it was coming sooner or later."

"You've always been perceptive, my friend."

"So it would seem."

"It certainly does."

"Red."

"Yes?"

"Just shut up and kiss me already."

He grinned and eagerly pressed his lips to those of the former Tallest sitting in his lap. It was soft and slow and kept to themselves, until a crewmember spotted them, and before long the majority of those on deck were standing in shock and staring in disbelief. The pair failed to pay any mind to the stares they were receiving, and continued to remain oblivious long after the kiss had ended.

Purple pressed his forehead to Red's, who intertwined their antennae. It was something Red had done since Purple had idly mentioned the gesture; a long-forgotten Irken symbol of affection that he'd read about in one of the books he kept stealing from the "secret room" he had found hidden under the palace library. The library, like all libraries on Irk, held audio and visual disks, or data that could either be learned via the senses or simply copied into one's Pak. There were a few books that had been kept in fair condition, but they were not terribly interesting. Those that Purple accidentally discovered had been carefully protected and hidden away, and in much better condition than those available in the regular library. He had always hypothesized that they were probably salvaged by a group trying to preserve Irk's history when the regime change took place and _They_ just started killing everyone who spoke against them. The other Irken assumed that he was probably right.

"More relaxed now?"

Purple laughed softly with a smile, "Yes." He nuzzled Red's forehead, "You know, you have a rather roundabout way of accomplishing things."

"It worked, didn't it?"

Purple couldn't argue. "I suppose it did."

Red gently pulled the Irken in his lap into a hug, and felt his companion's head settle comfortably on his shoulder. Long claws trailed delicate strokes from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck in an uncharacteristically graceful way. It was, to Purple's surprise, not a sexual gesture, nor did it resemble the comforting motions Red typically offered in consolation. Instead, these were light, easy touches purely for the sake of touch. Idle caresses without a pattern or restriction. Perhaps out of habit, Purple could not help but shiver against Red as his fingertips first glanced across his skin. He sighed deeply and relaxed as the red-eyed Irken continued to offer his touch.

"I know we haven't had much time to talk lately," he said, sounding more like the Red that Purple recognized, in place of the intense, pessimistic person that seemed to have taken the reigns for far too long, "and the last time we did… it didn't go so well."

Purple offered a small, obligatory laugh. "What gave you that idea? The part where I called you a 'stubborn fuck' or when you called me a 'bullshit cretin'?"

"Not the finest example of our communication skills."

"I don't think I was much help after that idiot barged into our quarters."

"I was pretty sure you could have made his head… brain, I suppose, explode just by _looking_ at him."

"Aren't you just as funny as Zim in a bear suit."

Red laughed quietly, "I thought it was kind of badass."

"The bear suit?"

"What? No," He shook his head and sighed, "the way you terrified Hoverbrain. And subsequently, Lard Nar."

Red had been very impressed at how relatively calm his partner had managed to keep himself as Hoverbrain led them to the medical bay after disturbing their quarters and scaring them to a fairly terrific extent. Of course, it was still an unsettling, disturbing sort of calm that Red was no closer to understanding, but it was calm nonetheless, and he concluded that it was a good thing.

Hoverbrain had typed the entry code on the keypad and opened the door to let them into a room where the ship's captain sat, along with the strange-looking creature they knew as Shloonktapooxis _,_ who they assumed to be of some importance, though with how completely disorganized the Resisty was in general, Red wouldn't have been the least bit shocked if the alien in question turned out to be a janitor. He filed away for later that would have to work with Lard Nar to do something about that. Also present among them was a vidscreen call, still holding.

Lard Nar had sighed in great relief, _"There you are! We lost contact with your communicators when I sent for you earlier, and worried that someone had tracked you here."_

_"You dialed the wrong frequency."_ Red replied, matter-of-factly.

_"That's impossible! I sent for you myself!"_

_"…Actually, sir… you kinda told Spleenk to send for them…."_

_"You listened to him again?"_ Every word had been spoken in a terrible, calm hiss, as if it were a sentence all its own.

_"Well, he's fairly competent most of the time, and it's not like he made an irrational assumption… everyone else thought you were dead."_

Red flinched, his movement oddly out of sync with his partner's sudden thrash. Logically, it would have been a natural _response_ to the disturbance like it was for everyone present. Instead, he had reacted seconds _before_ Purple had indicated that he was going to move. It was purely instinctual; the kind of response that only came with intimate knowledge.

He didn't attack the captain, which Red thought in retrospect, was progress. He did, however, lunge for his throat, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, threatening his personal space in a sufficiently terrifying manner.

_"Since_ none _of you half-wits can comprehend this concept, I want you to listen to me carefully because next time, truce be fucked,_ I will kill you _. What you know about the Irken Empire is a drop in the metaphorical bucket. Doing what we did has consequences so gruesome you'll beg them to kill you before the_ real _punishment starts. What they've done to Red and I is_ nothing _compared to what they're_ capable of doing. _If you people were scared of us and the Massive, you have no idea what it means to face Irk. Not a single one of you on this ship know what pain is, not the type of pain They like to cause. They'll rip you open and tear you apart bit-by-bit until there's nothing left to carve or cut out, and They'll make sure you're alive to watch your own heart stop beating."_

Not even the sound of breathing could be heard in the dead silence that rang through the air.

_"And that's if they let you die in peace. If_ anyone _under Irken allegiance finds out that we are alive, Red and I are_ not _going to have that option. We'll probably be forced to watch each other suffer horrible things, kept alive and tortured every day for centuries. I'm pretty sure even_ that _would be generous of Them. So I'm going to ask you politely to use discretion and common sense, call ahead or_ maybe knock on our door _if you plan to say the things I hear in my nightmares. I don't mean to be rude, but I've been_ a little _on edge lately."_ Purple released his hold on the Vortian, who without the support simply collapsed to the floor, too terrified to rise.

_"…Purple?"_ Red finally dared. His voice had been just above a whisper, but in the silence of the room, it seemed to jar everyone present. The trembling Irken looked to his former co-leader. _"Can I talk with you?"_

He nodded after a moment of hesitation.

Red turned his attention to the captain _, "Lard Nar,"_

The Vortian, shaken and shocked by the previous display, lifted his frightened eyes from the floor and looked alternately from Red to the walls on either side of him, unable to maintain eye contact. Red didn't know if it was out of fear or guilt.

_"Is it all right if I have a moment with Purple outside, privately?"_

As if their voices had all been stolen away, he nodded vigorously in affirmation, granting his permission _._

The red-clad Irken had nodded in response and in the ghost of a movement cleverly disguised as it had been for so many years he lightly touched his partner's hand as he seemed to brush by, making his way to the door. Purple followed him outside the room and into the nearest elevator. He said nothing as he watched Red open the control panel and mess with some wires.

He finished with a sigh, _"We can say whatever we want in here. The elevators are soundproofed, and I cut the camera line and stopped the elevator. And disabled their override signal."_

_"Okay."_

The awkward silence made the elevator feel entirely too claustrophobic _. "... Can I ask you for a favor?"_

It was the thin, cracked tone of Red's voice that prevented the bitchy retort he'd planned on responding with from passing his lips. _"I already told you, I won't promise you that."_

_"No, that's… I wasn't going to ask… that's over and done with."_

Purple knew that Red would ask him in one of his comforting voices to explain what was upsetting him and how he could help. He appreciated the concern, but the pattern got stale after a while. Still, he asked, making an effort to show that the gesture wasn't lost on him, no matter how useless it was. _"What is it?"_

_"Would you mind if…"_ His eyes were desperate and pleading in a way that Purple wasn't used to at all. _"Could you just hold me for a few minutes?"_

Red had always been affectionate, but he rarely voiced a desire to be comforted. He would hold Purple without being asked, but it seemed odd to hear him speak those words. It had become so ordinary that he could hardly remember the last time it had even been a question for either of them. Even so, Purple had usually been the one asking to be held; Red was more playfully aggressive in expressing his affections.

_"Of course,"_ he said, approaching the other, drawing him into an embrace _, "you don't have to ask."_

Red's grip wasn't frantic or choking, but it was by no means loose.

_"What's wrong?"_ Purple felt like they were on their roles had somehow become inverted during this conversation. It was almost dizzying.

_"I love you so much, Pur. No matter what, I'll always love you and I'll do anything for you. I promise."_ His voice was trembling and frail and the harder he felt himself shaking, the tighter his grip on the other Irken became.

_"…Are you okay, Red?"_

_"No, not really._ _But I don't think anybody is. I'm just… I don't even know. It's all too much, I can't_ think _anymore..."_

Purple wondered how Red managed to deal with him over the years and still maintain sanity himself. It wasn't that he hadn't ever consoled Red before. He just compartmentalized everything so much better than Purple did. He could keep himself collected until the end of the day when he would lie in Purple's arms and tell him everything, crying until he exhausted himself. Purple had gotten better over time, but he still considered himself the more emotional of the two.

_"I'm not going to let Them hurt you."_

_"Oh Red, I didn't mean to upset you like this."_

_"You were telling the truth."_

_"…I know."_

There are some things that not even lovers should speak of.

There are secrets that even lovers can never confide.

What happened on the day that he and Purple had been dragged against their will to stand before the men who haunted their nightmares was one of those secrets. An escape attempt thwarted before it could ever even fail; another one of his plans gone terribly awry had put Purple's life in jeopardy. Forced to stand there, helpless to do anything but watch the person who was essentially his entire life slowly expire as the ten-minute clock ran down toward zero… he didn't think he'd ever felt that kind of pure, raw fear or such true, genuine hysteria before or since.

_"Do you understand?"_ the one who literally held Purple's life in his hands asked in a cruel, teasing voice.

_"Yes, yes, I understand –_ we _understand – we're sorry, we'll never do it again I swear just please, fuck, oh god, please don't let him die – we'll do anything you ask us just please don't – ohmygodhe'snotbreathing!"_ He choked on the frantic words spoken between gasping breaths, unaware of anything other than the panicked, frantic desperation he felt in each pulse, spiking to new levels.

_"Well, I suppose we could let you and your little friend go, and take it on good faith that you won't misbehave again… but the problem with that, you see, is I don't know if I can trust you anymore, Red. It's quite a pickle you've put me in."_

_"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't do this – oh god, Purple?!"_ A terrible, uncontrollable fit of screams, as he watched his friend's eyes roll back into his head.

_"He seems to be a bit under the weather, wouldn't you say?"_

_"He's_ dying _! I promise, I'll do anything, fuck, oh god, shit, shit, shit,"_

_"Some people just need to learn things the hard way I suppose,"_

**_"WARNING: THIRTY SECONDS TO DOOM"_ **

_"have_ you _learned_ your _lesson, Red?"_

_"Yes, I'll never disobey orders again, I'll listen, I'll do whatever you want, just please, oh god!"_

_"I trust this sort of thing won't happen again."_ The sound of a Pak clicking and snapping back into place filled Red with an overwhelming sense of relief. _"He seems like such a nice boy, I'd hate to have to kill him."_

**_"PAK CONNECTED TO HOST."_ **

**_"STATUS: CRITICAL."_ **

**_"MULTIPLE SYSTEM FAILURES."_ **

**_"MUST PERFORM FULL MAINTENCE SCAN AND REPAIRS."_ **

_"It won't, you won't, I promise, I swear, anything you want, anything…."_

_"I'm glad we've come to an understanding. Now, while your friend's still on standby, please, be a dear and kill the man in the chamber next door."_

Confusion and dread were written all over his exhausted, tear-stained face.

_"Did you lie to me, Red? I'm giving you an order."_

_"You want me to just…_ kill _someone?"_

_"That would be the general idea, yes."_

_"But… why? What did they do?"_

_"That's none of your concern. If you want Purple here to keep breathing, that is."_

And all of a sudden, Red understood. _"…You don't even know who's in there, do you?"_

_"Oh, come now_ , my Tallest _, surely you didn't think I'd take it on the basis of blind faith that you're going to be true to your word."_

Red felt the world dissolve around him, dripping like a house of wax inside a furnace; like a painting Purple would later show him from a book full of human art sent by Zim of melting, withering clocks in a detached, barren space.

_"It's only appropriate. I'll spare your friend his life on the condition that you take one in his place."_

Red had later walked back to Purple's room alone, dragging himself through long hallways that seemed to stretch into forever, an endless loop of perpetual nothingness, a landscape that seemed to mimic his state of mind. Functioning in only the physical sense. In silence he found his sleeping robes, in silence he stared at an unfamiliar reflection in the mirror, and in silence he washed the blood off his hands. Vomited until there was nothing left for his body to reject, and proceeded to dry heave until he collapsed. In silence, he felt the world spin as he struggled to his feet; in silence, he cleaned the evidence of the mess he'd made; and in silence, he washed the awful taste from his mouth. In the same numbed state of shock, he dressed himself, climbed into bed, and clung desperately to the other Irken. Red remembered every single sound his partner's Pak emitted as it made the necessary automatic repairs. How he hid himself deep in Purple's unconscious embrace and confessed over and over again what he'd done and repeated the words, "I love you, I'm so sorry, please forgive me, I can't lose you" until his body gave out and he fell into restless sleep.

Purple's voice brought him back into the present, and picked up their previous conversation, exactly where he remembered having left off.

"All he had to do was _knock_. I don't even remember the last time I'd been so terrified, Red. 'Nar could've avoided the whole thing if he'd bothered to _call_ us. We had a phone and an intercom in our quarters. There was no excuse to send six people on a search party just because we didn't answer our communicators. And he really needs to have Spleenk tested for Dyslexia."

"Because he kept calling us on the wrong frequency?"

"Exactly how the whole mess started."

"Not the best way to begin things, I suppose."

"That was our first night here."

"Yes, it was."

"Mmm. It's still a stupid name."

Red could not help but laugh, "So you keep saying."

"I mean, come on… ' _Resisty_ _'_? It's just… so… who could ever take any group called _'Resisty'_ seriously?"

"Obviously we did."

"… I'm sorry."

He felt his partner hide his face in the crook of his neck. "It doesn't matter. I love you anyway."

"Sometimes I can't help but wonder why."

"Funny, I always thought _you_ were the smart one."

"I wasn't joking."

"Then you obviously haven't been paying nearly enough attention, because you're something pretty damned incredible. And if you can't see that, you haven't been looking properly."

"I just wish I knew where you were focused so that I could see it too."

"Do you love me?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you trust me?"

"Absolutely."

"Then why don't you believe me?"

'For so many reasons', he wanted to say. "After everything I've put you through, Red… it's not fair."

"You haven't put me through anything that I didn't contribute to myself, in terms of our relationship. Outside that, you're not responsible for anything that I did or anything that was done to me. If one of us owes the other an apology, I should be saying 'sorry' for the times my stubbornness got you hurt. All of that… whatever happened, happened, and it can't be changed. All I can do is keep trying harder."

"I haven't made things easy for you since we've been here."

"I never expected that they'd be easy at all."

"… I never should have said what I did, after … you know. I never should have _thought_ it."

"I already told you, none of that matters. We're here, now, and we're doing okay."

"Your definition of 'okay' is obviously much looser than mine."

"Maybe so," He said, idly twirling one of his partner's antennae around a clawed finger, "but that doesn't make it wrong."

Purple could not suppress the sudden, instinctual shudder that ran through him at the sensation, and stifled a moan against Red's neck. "Nghh, Red… not here, Baby."

"Somewhere else, perhaps?" He asked as he continued lightly teasing the other's sensory receptors.

His body very much agreed with Red's suggestion, but he knew if he let things go, they'd leave the conversation unfinished and never address it again. As much as he wanted his partner's mouth occupied by his own, Purple needed to talk a bit longer. He needed to explain himself – needed to apologize – he just needed the guilt that had been sitting heavy inside him to disappear. Red forgave him without words, but Purple knew he would never really be convinced until he heard his partner give them a voice. What he had said, how he had acted… he could not dismiss his behavior so easily. He couldn't handle leaving these horrible things to fester in the back of his mind.

But he wouldn't be able to handle anything at all, if Red kept at it like this much longer.

He felt somewhat foolish. He was acutely aware of how much he missed this type of intimacy, but if things were not at ease between them, he knew their intimacy would not be the only area in which their relationship would suffer. "Can… can we talk a little more? Please," he cursed mentally as he smothered another involuntary sound against his partner's shoulder, "don't try to fix it like this."

Purple breathed deeply, shaking against the other, holding him in an intense death-grip. Red did as he was asked, and relocated his hand to rest on his partner's back, occasionally offering the familiar comforting motions that Purple recognized, and they helped ease him somewhat.

"I'm sorry. That was pretty selfish of me, especially now. I didn't…"

Broken shards of a memory danced across his eyelids.

Suddenly, Red found that he had no feeling in his hands and discovered that they were simply resting in his lap, where his numbed arms lifelessly encircled the other former Tallest.

Purple saw something in his partner's eyes. It was something disturbing and worrisome and uncharacteristic, and it had caught him off-guard. "…Red? Red, Baby, are you okay?"

He shook himself from his uncomfortable thoughts, "…Yeah, of course. I'm fine."

"If you're going to fail at lying to me, at least try to do it _well_."

Red did not bother to insist. It would only prolong the conversation. "I don't want to talk about it."

Purple wasn't sure _what_ had just transpired, but Red's tone indicated that he wasn't going to find out. He resigned himself to this and sighed, as he nuzzled gently into the crook of Red's neck.

"I'm so sorry, Pur."

"It's not that big a deal. I mean, it _has_ been a while – well, in terms of us, at least - and believe me, it's not that I don't want to. I just... I know if we don't resolve it now, we never will."

"I don't see what there is to resolve." He moved his hands to resume the previous embrace in which he held the other, "What's past is past and what we've got here and now isn't so bad."

"Your outlook has certainly changed."

"What difference does it make?"

"You don't go from 'everyone is going to die' to 'everything is going to be just fine' in a few weeks. It feels like we've traded places lately…"

"I'll worry when the time comes. Right now, we're alive and together and that's all I need."

"When did you decide to look at it that way?"

"When I realized what a 'stubborn fuck' I've been."

"Red, if I ever understand how your brain works, I'll be fitted with the Intergalactic Guild of Scientific Achievement award."

Red rolled his eyes, even though his partner could not see.

"You're rolling your eyes at me, aren't you?"

"There is no way in the universe that you should know that."

"Been around you a long time."

A comfortable silence descended upon the pair as they held each other in a warm embrace. It had gone relatively unmentioned, how perfectly they fit together, but they both seemed to realize it without any kind of effort and for no reason at all. There was something about the way that they instinctively reached out, the placement of their arms, the specific shifts in posture… so many uncalculated adjustments that happened so naturally, allowing one to complement the other.

"Did you ever notice that?" It was Red who asked the question.

"Notice what?"

"How _perfect_ you are."

The words were familiar to him somehow, and judging by Red's reaction, they struck a chord in him as well. He obviously remembered where they'd come from, but when Purple tried to retrieve them from the deepest waters of his memory, he never surfaced with anything at all. "…Thanks, Red." It was awkward and pathetic, but he could think of no other appropriate response. "Are you all right?"

Red, who was clearly not all right, affirmed that he was, anyway, "I'm just tired."

"Me too."

He breathed in a sigh and collected himself, unwilling to allow whatever had been on his mind to stay there for every long. "I say we ought to see what we can do about catching up on that lost sleep of ours."

The Irken in his lap nodded sleepily, "Sounds good."

The pair disentangled themselves and rose to their feet as they started toward the door. Purple quietly took hold of Red's hand as they exited the main deck together. Red looked at him with a questioning expression.

"It's not like they'll give us the firing squad if I hold your hand, right?"

Red couldn't help but grin, "Told you you're the smart one."

"I can't be as smart as you think if I was stupid enough to act the way I did, before we came here."

"You were upset, okay? You had every right to be. I wasn't exactly level-headed either."

"Please don't rationalize it. The things I said hurt you, and I should've known better. I feel terrible about it, and I'm sorry."

Red unexpectedly wrapped his arms around his partner. "It's okay. I forgive you."

There was, without a doubt, something else on Red's mind. Purple could not yet discern what specifically that _something_ was, but he hoped to, because his partner was starting to really worry him. "Red… are you _sure_ you're all right? I'm starting to worry about you."

"No," he replied honestly, still holding the other in his arms, "I'm not."

"What's wrong?"

"…How can you even _look_ at me, Pur?"

Purple pulled back slightly and saw a twisted expression of weariness and regret on his partner's face. He knew it from somewhere, probably from the memory he still could not access. Though his face was sad and dark, he appeared younger rather than older, which was something Purple found very odd.

"Why do you let me touch you, after what I did?"

"Red, I don't understand what you're talking about, I don't know what you mean! You've never done anything to hurt me!"

"…I'm sorry for it."

"Nothing happened! You never hurt me, I'm fine! I'm right here, in one piece. Please, just tell me what's going on."

"…It's nothing. I'll be all right. Just… it's something you don't need to think about. Neither of us do. I shouldn't have mentioned it at all."

"It's _something_ , and I'm not going to let you blow this off like I do everything else!"

"What do you mean? We talk about everything."

"We talk about whatever you're comfortable with, on your terms. Yes, you've gotten a million times better over the years, but we're going to talk about this _now_."

"If it was important I'm sure you'd have remembered it, like the thousands of other things you're always bringing up."

"You really _are_ a stubborn fuck sometimes, Sweetie."

"Why is this so important to you?!"

"Because you hate yourself over it!"

Red could find nothing to say.

"I love you. I won't let you hate yourself for something that wasn't your fault – and I may not remember what you're talking about, but I do know that I would never have stayed with you if you had hurt me."

"You really don't want this one."

"…What?"

"This memory. Neither of us did. We discussed it, believe it or not. Promised each other we'd forget it ever happened and start from square one, like we should have. I haven't thought of it in a long time. Probably wouldn't have, if I hadn't been remembering so much shit lately."

Purple smiled, "You too, huh? I thought it was just _my_ memory that was bent on driving me insane."

"I think you've been right all along. We should have talked about these things more often."

"Well, I am the smart one, after all. Think you'd have started taking me seriously by now."

The light, playful teasing in his voice made Red very grateful. "We can't all be geniuses, I suppose."

"Well all _this_ being genius has worn me out. I think we'll both feel a whole lot better if we get some rest. Doesn't Lard Nar want to have some official-type meeting later?"

Red finally released his purple-eyed counterpart and sighed. "Shit. I forgot about that."

Hands clasped together, they started toward their quarters again. "Did he give you any specifics on what he wants to discuss?"

"I've been essentially glued to your side since we got here. I don't know anything more than you do. It'd be great if he at least could have put together an itinerary or some kind of agenda so we might get something done effectively around here."

"They _are_ a bit disorganized." Purple noted. "If we're going to have any real chance, we've got to do something about that. The chain of command is going to need complete restructuring, and we are _going to_ take Spleenk off of Communications, permanently. And bar him from participating in any creative decisions. We'll have to be able to mobilize fast, and everyone ought to have at least some basic knowledge in the event of a worst-case scenario. Maybe we should -mmph!"

For the second time that day, he was taken completely by surprise when Red had, without warning, pulled him into a kiss. This time, however, he slowly responded and returned the gesture, but did not allow the other Irken to control it to any degree. His aggressive advances were constantly denied, and Purple maintained the same slow, even pace until Red conceded and matched it. Purple couldn't help but grin as he slipped his tongue into Red's mouth. The red-eyed Irken let out a soft sigh, blissfully ignorant of any and every thing outside Purple and himself. Purple's kisses tended to have this type of hypnotic effect on him. He didn't understand _how_ the other Irken managed to accomplish it, but no matter how forceful or dominating Red would be, Purple could effortlessly take control before the other could realize it had slipped.

Red couldn't say he minded, though.

"Oh dear Vort, not again!" The familiar voice cried out, startling them slightly, annoying them greatly, but amusing them more than anything.

"You didn't type up an agenda for that meeting later, did you, 'Nar?" Red asked, eyes closed with his palm against his forehead.

"Your room is _right there_ , for Vort's sake, you're _standing in front of it_! Do… things of that particular nature," the Captain cringed, "in your quarters. Ugh, I'm shocked that the two of you managed to do _anything_ besides each other as Tallests!"

Purple tried not to laugh and Red failed miserably at concealing the evil grin that spread across his face.

"It's fair to say we were literally screwing each other at about the same rate that we were proverbially screwing the universe."

Lard Nar snorted, "Do you have any idea of the magnitude of trouble you've created? You've upset the intergalactic balance more in your short time as Tallests than anyone I've ever heard of! …Except maybe Zim. But _he's_ been part of it too!"

"Says quite a bit about the sex, then, doesn't it?"

Red was rewarded with the traumatized look he'd been trying to provoke from Lard Nar.

"Well, 'Nar, it was nice to see you, but we've got some… private matters to attend to. Later, then?" Red responded in a sweet, chipper tone.

Lard Nar stood in place for a moment with one eye twitching before he walked away, looking very much like he'd been given a lobotomy.

Inside their quarters, Red broke into uncontrollable laughter. Purple's expression indicated that he was amused as well, though not to the extent of his partner.

"I don't think I'll _ever_ get tired of that expression." Red sighed as he caught his breath, "You can't tell me it's not hilarious."

"Of course it's hilarious. I don't know… I just wish you'd be a little less open about our sex life, I guess. As nice as it is to not have to hide it anymore, I'd still like to keep some of it to ourselves. It just sounds so cheap and meaningless when you throw it around like that. I know you've always joked like that with me, and I don't mind it. It's part of your personality, and I don't want you to change because in private, part of me finds it somewhat charming. What makes me uncomfortable is I'm afraid that people will think we're just using each other because the sex is great. It's probably stupid, but I just want… us, I guess, to be taken seriously. Ugh, listen to me, I sound like you," he said with a smile, "completely circumventing the point of this. I'm just asking that you try to curb the PDA a little, and spare some details for the bedroom."

Red sat beside him at the edge of the bed, "You know me," he said, "always taking things too far until it's too late to take them back." He paused for a brief moment before desperately sighing, "Oh fuck!" and with his elbows on his knees, he pressed his forehead to the heels of his hands.

"Red? It's not something you need to get upset over, I don't care _that_ much, I just wanted you to be aware is all. Come on, don't do this to yourself."

He took a deep breath and let it out. "I think I just really need to get some sleep."

"How long have we been trying to make that happen?" His partner laughed.

"Entirely too long."

Purple offered a warm smile as he rose to his feet and began the process of unfastening and shedding his gauntlets. He listened to the pop and click of the metal fastenings of his chest plate one by one. The room was small, but despite the poor acoustics, the snapping sound they made as they came undone resounded in his mind and stirred up that _something_ long-forgotten.

Red had been right. He really _didn't_ want this one.

"Hey." Red's voice, thankfully breaking his train of thought. Purple saw that his partner had already removed the bulky pieces of heavy armor, and he quickly freed himself of the restrictive garments and climbed into bed beside the other Irken. They had decided that they would listen to the doctor and not keep it off for an extended duration, but since they'd never had an issue under the circumstances, it seemed that they shouldn't have any issues if they were to sleep without it.

"You remembered." It was more of a statement than a question, but he extended the kindness of asking.

Soft, unsure purple eyes met sad red ones.

"You were thinking about it, weren't you?"

Purple closed his eyes, collected his thoughts, and averted his gaze, placing a hand to the other Irken's chest. "Couldn't help it, I guess."

All he could do was pull the other close. "Wanna know a secret?"

His expression indicated that he yes, he did.

"I was, too."

Purple leaned in and unexpectedly offered a short, relieved kiss. "I love you." He whispered, "goodnight."

Red's grip became just the slightest bit more protective as he offered a "goodnight" and watched the other fall asleep.

There are some things that not even lovers should speak of.

There are some sins that not even lovers can be forgiven.

He remembered the first three days of adjusting to the new weight bearing down on his chest, shoulders, and arms; parading about in public as if the armor were something he wore with pride instead of the Iron Maiden that it truly was. He had little time to spend in private with his co-ruler, and he almost felt as if Purple were evading him intentionally. They hadn't spoken about anything more than superficial, idiotic banter during the day and whenever Red would make an attempt to catch him at night, he was always locked in his room. He hadn't been sure what to think, but it ate at him more and more the longer it went on until he finally rigged a manual override he could use to open the door himself.

Purple had been sitting at the edge of his bed, hugging his knees to his chest with a steady stream of tears running down his face. His gauntlets had been discarded, which was odd considering how uncomfortable the bulk of their traditional robes were… Red always changed out of them as soon as he could. Even if he was going to cry alone, Red was pretty certain that Purple would have changed into something less painful first.

_"That door was locked. How did you get in?"_ He asked, his voice drained of inflection.

_"Hacked it."_

_"What are you doing here?"_

Red tried to form words, but his shocked voice only managed colliding, nonsensical syllables before he could get them out properly. _"I'm here because you won't talk to me! I don't know what I did to upset you, Pur, but whatever it was, I'm sorry for it."_

_"You haven't done anything, Red. I just… I needed some time alone."_

Purple's eyes begged for him to leave, told him that he just could not deal with anything more right now, and they pleaded with him to understand. Red, however, had not been satisfied with the response he'd gotten, so he took a seat beside the other Tallest, sparing a comfortable distance between them.

_"You haven't been sleeping."_

Purple looked startled.

_"I hear you pacing at night. You always pace when you're nervous. Just like you drum you claws when you're anxious."_

_"Oh."_

He sighed. _"You've never done it before, so please don't start lying to me now."_ He drew in a deep breath and continued, _"If I freaked you out when I said,"_

_"You didn't."_

A long pause filled the gap between them. _"I meant it, you know."_ He said, red eyes finally locking with purple ones, _"I love you."_

_"Please don't say that, Red. I don't think I can look at you every day for the rest of our lives knowing that you're as torn up on the inside over me as I am over you. We can't change the laws. I think_ we _know that better than anyone else."_

_"… No one would have to know."_

_"You can't be serious."_

His expression didn't need words to speak otherwise.

_"If we get caught,"_

_"We won't."_

_"You realize your plans don't have the best track record?"_

_"Only minor flaws._ _And this isn't chemistry class."_

_"…Okay. I don't think there's much harm in trying."_

_"You don't sound very relieved."_

No answer came.

_"We've known each other a long time and everything, but despite that, I still can't read your mind. What's been keeping you awake? …And why are you still wearing that thing? It's as heavy as The Massive."_

The Irken still dressed in his traditional armor held back tears that stung behind his closed eyes and his body tensed. _"…I can't get it off."_ He replied quietly. _"It's defective. All the clasps are backwards and I can't reach…."_ His body shuddered, _"Three days. I still can't get it off."_

Red cringed at the thought. _"I'm pretty sure that would be impossible for anyone, considering how these are designed. You should have just asked me to help you."_

_"No!"_ Said much quicker and louder than he'd intended, _"Thanks, I mean it, but… you don't need to."_

Red shot him a confused glance. _"Purple, it's not like I'm asking permission to get you out of your pants. Three days is a long time to be in that thing and you've got to be in pain. You've never been this shy with me."_

_"It's not so bad."_

_"Either you tell me the truth, or I wrestle that gigantic hunk of metal off you. You've got a pretty big advantage here, but I'll still tackle you no matter how much it hurts me."_

He started, then stopped as if to collect himself and drew a deep breath. He spoke again in reluctant, hesitant words, _"I don't… I don't want you to see me like… after what they did to me, Red."_ His violet eyes stared down at the floor, _"I don't even know how bad it is… and I don't want…I don't want you to have to look at something ugly and broken."_

He felt Red's claws under his chin, raising his head and holding it still until he gave in and established eye contact. _"If you decide to ignore everything I ever tell you, I'm going to ask you to remember only one thing. You will_ never _be ugly or broken."_

Purple struggled against the tears that threatened to burst.

_"Please let me help you."_

Not trusting his voice, the other just shook his head with an expression that begged him not to do it. Red sighed and touched a claw to the other's face, offering a gentle, soothing touch before withdrawing it to allow the top half of his robes, still tied at the waist, to slide off his shoulders. Purple just gasped and looked at Red with disbelieving, heartbroken eyes. The tears he'd been fighting leaked from his eyes and continued to spill in steady streams. He failed to notice that he'd started crying again, and he did not seem to care. All of the defenses he'd erected to divert his partner had come crumbling down and his mind never considered reconstructing them. He could not make sense of it. There was a sick, lightheaded feeling that passed through him when time seemed to stop completely for a moment. He had disconnected with reality so completely that he'd been entirely convinced he could feel himself waking from the nightmare around him. It was after he blinked his eyes and opened them, only to see everything exactly as it had been that gravity seemed to latch on to the ankle of his thoughts and gleefully dragged them down a free-fall, slamming into the ground.

Still somewhat stunned, he slowly, tentatively touched the tips of two clawed fingers to the other's broken chest. He knew it was not broken any longer, but touched as if it were made of glass. Where green skin had once stretched over smooth bone, fingers traced over crevices that resembled a shattered windshield.

_"I'm just as ugly and broken as you think you are."_ He said, _"Please, Purple. Let me help."_

The other Tallest finally nodded, possibly because he was still much too shocked to do anything else, and did not try to disguise his fear as his partner unfastened the defective locks. It fell to the ground with a loud, punctuated _THUD_ , and Purple looked nervously to Red for some kind of hint regarding the extent of his injury. The red-eyed leader simply ducked his head and lightly placed a soft kiss at the center of the break. He changed his focus and leaned close to the other's antennae while replacing his lips with one of his palms, he whispered softly, _"You're_ perfect _."_ He pulled away and met his eyes, as if to reinforce what he'd just said.

Purple never would have imagined himself the type to do such a thing, but standing there together, both of them broken and desperate and lonely, he pulled the other Irken flush against him and brought their mouths together with surprising force.

There were no more questions that night. They would push boundary after boundary, but not because they wanted to. Farther and farther, explaining through desperate gasping breaths that they should really stop now, always followed by a breathless moan, always urging,

_"Just a little farther…"_

_"…harder,"_

_"deeper…"_

_"…faster…"_

Until they collapsed in a tangled mess of tears and sweat and stained sheets; wishing, in vain, that they could take it back. It was not supposed to have been like that; not the first time. It was supposed to be slow and gentle and selfless, not hard fast and greedy. There was love between them, but no love was made in the act itself.

All they had made was regret.

Motivated by sorrow and bitterness and anger, filled with reproach and guilt and hate, it was an attempt to drown out the sad truth of their despondent reality.

They could never go back.

They had been sentenced to hell for the rest of their lives. Forced to perpetuate a lie against their will, living in fear of black cloaks, bearing that crushing burden on their chests like a perverted scarlet letter… having to watch each other suffer every day, and knowing down to the most intimate detail exactly how it felt, and the realization of how helpless they truly were had been too much to cope with. Ripped from an ordinary life of unassuming ignorance and violently shoved into one of chaos so overwhelming that it threatened their sanity, neither could have been prepared for any of what they had been forced to endure, nor could they have anticipated how it would feel… let alone what it would be like to watch each other suffer the way that they had; the way they always would. All the things that had been thrust upon them so suddenly was so much more than they could bear.

It hadn't been bad, by any stretch of the imagination. It had been empty. They both felt like they had been trying to steal from each other, only to find that there was nothing to take. The thought sickened them both in the aftermath, lying entangled in embarrassment, shame, and each other. Once he had managed to numb himself to the thought of what had transpired, Red managed to force himself upright and out of bed. Purple noticed his dark outline in the shadows, collecting his robe from the floor and broke the dreadful silence.

_"…Are you upset with me?"_

He turned his attention in the direction of the voice he couldn't see. _"I'm upset with_ me _."_

_"What happened tonight… it was my fault."_

_"No. It wasn't."_

_"I started it, Red."_

_"And I didn't stop it. I should've known better."_

Purple did not need to see the other to know that the pained look of despair in his voice was also on his face. _"Both of us, then."_

He sighed, staring at the carpet.

_"…I'm scared of myself, Red."_

_"What? Why?"_

_"I think I really hurt you."_

The confusion in his tone was not hard to mistake. _"How?_ _We were both being a little rough, but,"_

_"I clawed your back... pretty hard."_

_"Which is not something out of the ordinary under the circumstances."_

_"I broke the skin."_

_"Really? … Hm. I didn't notice. You got a little carried away, it's no big deal."_

_"I made you bleed!"_

_"So we'll get you a manicure."_

_"It's not funny, Red! Some of those went really deep! I basically tore you to ribbons! And I bit you hard enough to bruise!"_

_"If I remember correctly, you're going to have some bruises of your own in the morning."_

_"Not the like ones you'll wake up with."_ He countered, _"I got…_ violent _with you. I – I…"_

_"If you had hurt me at all, I'd have told you so."_

_"I really wanted to, Red. That's what scares me. You're the only thing I've ever loved and I actually wanted to_ hurt _you."_

_"…I know."_

Purple looked at him with a confused expression he could not see in the dark, but recognized it in the beat of silence that passed. _"What… why - why would you let me do something like that?"_

_"I'm pretty sure I_ wanted _you to hurt me."_

_"But…why?"_

_"Because I think I wanted to hurt you, too."_

_"But you didn't,"_

_"Is this starting to sound familiar to you at all?"_

Another silence filled the room, this one stretched on for longer than either of them was comfortable with. Red slipped his robe back on and quietly headed for the door.

_"You don't have to leave."_

Red hadn't understood why Purple would even _consider_ extending the courtesy of inviting him to stay. He just wanted to curl up alone and cry until he died of a broken heart. _"Why should I stay? It would just be a reminder of … a horrible mistake."_

_"It was just a mistake, Red. That's all."_

Staring at the floor, he spoke in a sad voice, _"It should never have happened like that."_

_"Well, now we know how it_ should be _for next time."_

Red turned around, hearing the seriousness in his partner's voice. _"You want there to be a 'next time'?"_

Purple nodded in the dark.

_"…With me?"_

He rolled his eyes, _"No, I was thinking maybe a Slaughtering Rat Person. Or one of those large-nostril people. Of course, with you."_

_"But we,"_

_"We screwed up, if you'll pardon the pun. I know that you put yourself through more pain just to hold my hand than most people will suffer in a lifetime, and you wouldn't have done it if you didn't love me. You wouldn't hate yourself right now if you didn't love me the same way I love you. This doesn't change what I feel, or what I felt for you before. We're both sick with ourselves, not the other. I'm not asking for a second chance tonight. When we've dealt with it in our own ways, and we decide we're ready for 'next time', we'll let it happen. Right now, all I need is to know whether or not you think you might be able to love me again, after what I put you through tonight. I'm asking you to forgive me. Not necessarily now, but someday."_

_"There's nothing to forgive, this wasn't your fault."_

_"I feel like there is."_

_"You didn't,"_

_"Yes, I did, and I'm tired of hearing you shoulder all the blame for this. It wasn't what either of us had been hoping it would be, we both should have known better, and we were both selfish about it and we feel guilty. We used each other to take out our anger and frustration in the worst way, and it sucks because I like to think that we both really do love each other. It was the wrong thing to do, but we did it anyway. Now please, just come back to bed. I don't want to be alone."_

For the second time that night, Red felt himself give in. _"Tonight."_

_"No."_

Just when Purple seemed to have established some sort of pattern, he went and did something that completely broke it. Red never knew _what_ to expect from his partner. _"Tonight, tomorrow night, the night after that, and until we're deactivated. I don't want to be alone anymore. Ever. I'm not going to let one mistake ruin the only real chance at happiness I have left._ They _are not going to take you away from me. I won't let them tear us apart, or have us destroy each other by destroying ourselves. I_ can't _. I love you too much to give up, especially now. Tonight wasn't about_ us _. I didn't go to bed with you tonight because I loved you. I did it because I hated_ Them. _I was already strung out; I couldn't handle being in my own head anymore, and seeing you so broken reminded me of how much we've lost. Part of me knew I wasn't going to stop, Red. And no matter how much you wanted to, I knew you'd go as far as I wanted._ _I hated myself for what I was making you do, and I took it out on you."_

_"You weren't exactly making me do anything I was complaining about."_

_"There you have it. None of this was about anything between the two of us, so technically, it doesn't count."_

_"Purple, that's the worst logic I have ever heard."_

_"Well, we've established that we're both at fault and we both forgive each other. Why don't we just forget this ever happened and start over? Do this whole thing the way it's supposed to be done… you know, take our time with everything. Smeet steps."_

_"How are you even going to be able to look at me anymore?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"After I just…_ violated _you like that."_

_"You_ didn't _violate me. One of us had to be on top. Don't think for a second that I let you do_ anything _I didn't want. I mean that. Now please just come back to bed."_

_"Pur,"_

_"Bed._ _Now. You can finish your sentence after that."_

Red moved warily across the room and awkwardly laid himself down at a distance from his co-leader, who rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly, moving through the gap between them to curl against the other's side and draped an arm across his chest.

_"Pur… you said we were going to take it slow."_ His voice was shaking.

_"Red. You need to relax. I just like it when you hold me. We've slept like this before."_

_"Under_ very _different circumstances."_

_"And what makes this time any different?"_

_"You're… still naked for starters."_

_"Is that bad?"_

_"Yes – well, no, - it's_ inappropriate _."_

Purple's expression read, 'since when do _you_ care about _appropriate_ ' _"We're going to sleep, not a dinner party."_

_"You're missing the point."_

_"If it's making you uncomfortable, Red, just tell me so. I assumed it'd be kind of pointless to bother with clothes at this point because it's not like you haven't seen me without them."_

_"Don't be such a cretin."_

_"Wow. Sorry, I'll get a robe if it really bothers you_ that _much."_ Purple said, sitting up. _"I wasn't trying to sound arrogant, you know, I just… I hoped you wouldn't be disgusted with me. I'll get dressed."_

A pair of arms encircled his waist and pulled him close, _"I didn't mean it like that. I was worried about overstepping my boundaries. Didn't want you to be uncomfortable."_

_"I'll_ tell _you if something makes me uncomfortable. If you're worried about boundaries, don't be afraid to ask. Does that sound all right to you?"_

_"Yeah, I think I can handle that."_

_"Would it make you more comfortable if I got dressed?"_

_"… I don't - I mean - this is fine."_

Purple rolled his eyes and made his way toward his closet, emerging clad in a sleeping robe. He sighed as he lay down beside his partner, _"You need to be honest with me, or we'll never get anywhere. I can't read your mind. I won't get mad at you for having a different opinion."_

_"Why does this have to be so hard?"_

Purple took hold of his partner's hand and looked into his eyes, _"Because it's worth it."_

The other laughed bitterly. _"Yeah, so far, I'd say having fucked up our entire friendship has really been valuable."_

_"I never said anything about sex."_

_"Can we just stop talking about it, Pur? Really, it's making me sick."_

_"Stop equating love with sex. They're not the same, and one doesn't mean the other. You can have love without sex and you can sex without love. I think we've already proved both. What we wanted was something different from those conditions."_

_"I don't understand what you're trying to say."_

A sigh, _"I know. Someday, you will."_

_"Whatever you say."_

_"Well I say we put this mess behind us, forget it ever happened, and take it slow."_

_"I don't,"_

_"Just promise me you'll try."_

_"…Are you sure about that mind-reading thing?"_

_"You're deflecting. Again."_

A sigh. _"Yes. I promise to try."_

_"Me too."_

"I know you're faking."

Red had hoped his partner had fallen asleep while he allowed memories to flood his consciousness. They kept pounding relentlessly, begging for release and thrashing wildly against the walls built to contain them. Finally, they'd broken through and there was no telling what kind of damages they might do after having been dammed-up for so long. He just had to accept the consequences, and there was no reason he ought to bother Purple with the fallout.

"Again, if you're gonna fail at lying to me, at least try to fail _well_."

He wouldn't bring him into this, it wasn't Purple's responsibility. He had been the one suggesting all along that they confront the demons that plagued him now, and Red had to accept it. Purple didn't need the weight of the past burdening him on top of their present circumstances and the anxiety over their uncertain futures. It would just –

Teeth grazed the skin of his neck, just to the side of his throat and he struggled to ignore the sensation that shot through his body. He emitted a small sigh, but tried to play it off as some sort of sleep sound. He felt the mattress shift and the weight of his partner's body pressing against him. He tried desperately to ignore it.

"You're a bad liar, Baby. You always were." A low, seductive voice reserved for Red, and Red alone. Purple flicked his tongue against one of the other's antennae, and slowly traced it upward until it came to a point. Red pulled his partner into a hard kiss and quickly flipped them over, firmly pinning the other's wrists against the bed. Purple just grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"Wanna tell me what you're smiling about?"

"Mmm… I could, but I think it's fairly obvious."

"You know, you _are_ in quite a vulnerable position right now."

"Is that so?"

Red nodded seriously. "Were I a man of lesser morals, I could easily do this," he said, kissing his neck, "or this," he trailed his tongue down his partner's throat and the dip of his collar bone, "this," Purple's antennae were extremely sensitive, and he took full advantage of this knowledge, repeating what his partner had previously done to him at a slow, languidly torturous pace, then flicking his tongue over the tip of the sensory receptor, "or even," he whispered, his voice low and breathy, "this." He heard the Irken pinned beneath him gasp out loud when he slid the tip of his partner's antenna between his lips, and enjoyed the series of unintelligible sounds and writhing movements he provoked as he teased it. When he decided enough was enough, he smiled in victory and waited for Purple to catch his breath.

"Moral fiber, huh?"

Red nodded, wearing a mock-solemn expression.

"I don't suppose I could talk you into giving that up, could I?"

"Sorry, it's solidly-founded."

Purple rocked his hips against Red's. "I wouldn't exactly say it's my morals that are getting hard right now."

"You think I'm some sort of uncivilized brute who'd do something like,"

Nails running down his back and he shivered.

"that? or,"

Tongue down his chest, over his stomach and he gasped.

"that? or,"

Lips closing around his length, taking him into his mouth and Purple cried out his name.

It had been entirely too long, Purple decided, somewhere in the back of his mind. Red glanced up every once in a while, and he looked at Purple as if he were the only other thing in the world. Performing an act like this would have meant instant deactivation on Irk. Loving someone so much, to be _devoted_ to someone, regardless of gender, that you would not only _kneel_ before them but kneel _for_ them… it was a powerful, intimate gesture. Giving that person such an intense experience without the anticipation that they would reciprocate from such a vulnerable position was, at one time, profound and meaningful, or so he'd read.

As with anything that produces a biologically pleasurable result, it is immediately exploited, sold, and rendered meaningless. Vulgar, even. In favor of productivity, alternatives are found. There was no detailed account of how the transition from pre-Pak Irkens to those supported by a Pak came about. It didn't matter. He was here and he was now and he lived, breathed, and loved Red and that would never change it couldn't change, they had been and they would be everything, everything he lived for and all he was willing to die for, loved him lived for him breathed-

_Breathe oh keep breathing don't stop never stop I love I love you I've always loved you I'm oh keep breathing if I had words I could tell you I'd tell youiloveyouhowhowmuchi…oh god I'm breathing i'mbreathing i'mbreaking catch me you always catchmeiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouilove_

"RED!" He repeated the other Irken's name over and over with every gasping breath that left his lungs as his body began to recover from the intensity of climax.

Beside him, Red gently stroked his partner's chest, feeling his wild heartbeat pumping beneath his fingertips. "Shhh, just breathe, Pur. I'm not going anywhere."

"Nghh… Red…" He choked on a heaving whisper.

"Easy, take it easy, I'm right here." He took hold of his partner's hand, traces of worry beginning to creep into his expression.

"…loveyousomuch…"

Red held the other close and listened to his breathing as it slowed to its regular rate.

"How'd I get so lucky?"

"I wouldn't exactly say we've had the greatest streak of luck in the history of the universe, Pur."

"But how often do people find this?"

Red sighed, "I think we're something of a rarity. …Are you okay?"

"I'm… I don't think there's a word for how wonderful I feel right now."

"Is the weird contagious, or are we just passing it back and forth now?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't think I've ever seen you quite like this."

He laughed, "You never stop surprising me, is all."

Red didn't seem to understand. "We didn't do anything we haven't done before."

"I haven't blown a fuse or anything, don't worry. I'll be back to my witty banter in no time, I promise."

Red smiled and curled against the other Irken. "Good. I was worried you'd want candles and rose petals next."

"I'm just _so_ demanding like that."

"I like to think I keep up with you."

"Goodnight, Red. Promise me you'll sleep this time."

"Well, I apparently suck at lying to you."

"You just set me up for the perfect joke at your expense, but I'll be a good person and ignore it."

"So you're a man of morals, are you?"

Purple sat up, cocking an antenna in interest. "I could tell you at great length in graphic detail all about how hard it is to keep it strong."

"Hmm… sounds like something I could stand to hear about."

"Better yet – I could give you a demonstration." He said deviously, wrapping his arms around the other's neck.

"Really?" He said, idly tracing Purple's collar bone, "How would I get to participate?"

"Oh, I can think of a few positions you might like to try."

"I'm up for it."

"Good. It's going to take some stamina."

"I want you so badly right now."

"So take me."

* * *

 

**Useless Information:**

**Hoverbrain** **…** was the only name I could find for that guy. Visible in the episode _"Backseat Drivers from Beyond the Stars"_ (my favorite episode). He talks funny because that's just how I imagine he would.

**"…with no sign of when it might relent" …** is a throwback to JtHM

**"ten minutes to doom" …** is a reference to the would-have-been episode _"Ten Minutes of Doom"_

**The painting Red references (melting clocks)…** if it wasn't obvious, is Salvador Dali's infamous _The Persistence of Memory._ I'm a huge Dali fan.

**Backward fastenings …** were inspired by a dress I got myself stuck in. It was particularly unpleasant.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I could've split this one, but it felt too choppy and I'd rather take a little longer to write something solid and satisfying than slam the metaphorical breaks and give you a shorter, sloppier piece of work. Those of you who take the time to read this deserve my best effort. You guys are really what keep this thing going.

* * *

**\- 4 -**

When they first learned of what they were being commanded to do, it had felt surreal. The shock gave way to numbness, which eventually grew into hate and frustration that manifested itself inwardly. They looked to each other, as if searching for the words they could never seem to find, and every time, they looked away again; unable to really hold each other's eyes for very long.

Purple had felt a great many things in his life; more emotions than he could give name to had, at one point or another, coursed through him, but never had he felt anything quite like this. A mixture of rage, shame, hate, sickness, hopelessness, agony… it by no means truncated with 'agony', but it seemed thoroughly senseless to maintain a list of what the wretched feeling that consumed his entire being was almost but not quite.

It had been merely days after receiving the news; while they had been sitting in each other's silence at opposite ends of the room they shared (Red's bedroom had been abandoned for years, used for nothing, save decoration, since Purple had convinced him to just make things between them official already and move his clothes into the same closet midway through the second year), when the call came through. The private, unmonitored line that Red had installed during the short time when they occasionally slept in their respective rooms, used on only two occasions, was suddenly being hailed. The line was completely untraceable, not to mention that Red had created a unique system that ensured no third party, other than himself, could tap it. It was an unregistered frequency, too; nondescript and until now, he assumed was out of service.

They had almost let it go unanswered, until Red ultimately picked up the call. They answered on their feet, summoning whatever façade of imperviousness they could manage, and slumped in confusion when a smirking Lard Nar greeted them.

_"Oh not_ you guys _again."_ Had been Purple's response.

_"If you really want the snacks_ that _badly, you can_ take _them."_ Red sighed in exasperation.

_"Ah, my dear leaders, I see you misunderstand my intentions. I have not called to barter for your pathetic_ snacks _."_

_"Great,"_

_"Can we go now?"_

The Vortian on the other end of the call was growing visibly annoyed, _"If you'll notice,_ Sirs _, I'm calling you on a secure line._ Your _secure line. This is not a public broadcast. This is a negotiation."_

_"Incase you've forgotten,"_

_"We don't negotiate."_

They really needed to stop finishing each other's sentences like that, Purple noted, or people might start getting suspicious.

_"That's too bad. I'll be sure to tell Invader Tenn that her leaders have abandoned her. Wait – I have a better idea – why don't you just tell her yourself?"_ A smiling Lard Nar shifted the focus of the vidscreen to his left, where Tenn stood in shackles with Shloonktapooxis minding her.

Purple felt himself unraveling at rapid speed.

_"What is this?"_ Red asked, clearly feeling ill, _"Ransom?"_

_"That's_ exactly _what it is."_

There was a tense silence that burned across the distance between them.

_"Red and I. In exchange for Tenn, both of us surrender."_

There was a chorus of disbelieving responses and faces contorted in sheer confusion.

_"What?!"_

_"For real?"_

_Pur?"_

Even Tenn squeaked out a sound that mimicked _"Huh?"_

_"That'd be totally rad!"_

_"No you idiot!"_ the Vortian captain shouted, _"It's a trick! They're the Tallest, you moron! The Armada will be following their every move! It's just a plot to destroy us! We won't fall for your trickery, Irken scum!"_

_"How about if we let you kill us? Will you let her go free then?"_ The astonished look on Lard Nar's face almost made Purple laugh.

_"Purple,"_ Red didn't get another word out. His partner hadn't interjected, but the glare he shot shut him up right away.

_"… What are you trying to pull?"_ Now, Lard Nar appeared to be completely confused and more than a little spooked.

Red calmly explained it was, _"Nothing."_

Purple preferred, _"Assisted suicide."_

Red stared at his partner in a combination of disgust and disbelief while the other hadn't even turned his attention away from the screen, standing in smug silence. _"You fucking bastard"_ was all he could say.

_"What? Did I say something wrong? It's not like we'll be able to live through next week at this rate."_

_"That's not even legitimately okay to joke about!"_

_"Who said it was a joke?"_

Red had graduated from upset to full-blown furious, _"We_ promised… _fuck,_ you _made_ me _promise we wouldn't do that, because of how selfish it was!_ He braced his hands on his co-leader's chest, and shoved him backward. Not enough to be considered violent, but enough to throw him off balance. _"We vetoed the suicide pact idea because we didn't want to die like cowards!"_

_"Tell me, Red, when did running away fall into the 'brave' category?"_

Red sighed and fought the urge to either throttle his partner or throw him down and do wild, angry things he couldn't spell. Neither would be helpful in this context. _"I'm not running away from anything, Pur, I'm running_ toward _something."_ In a softer, calmer voice, _"We promised we'd never take the easy way out."_

Purple's response was a look of pure despondency and crippling exhaustion. _"I'm so tired, Red. I can't do this anymore."_

Red would have held his partner in his arms until he calmed down and they both eventually fell asleep like he usually did when something upset him like this. It took all the effort he could summon not to reach out, not to touch him, not to comfort him. _"Well you had better get yourself together."_ He tried to sound flippant, but his expression betrayed him.

_"All right, somebody,_ please _tell me what just happened!"_ A befuddled Lard Nar demanded.

Red looked as if he were about to answer, and then abruptly retreated into his thoughts. He looked back at the vidscreen, confident and satisfied.

_"Oh no. You've got some kind of plan, don't you?"_ Purple asked.

_"What?"_ Both Lard Nar and Red simultaneously responded.

_"You_ always _look like that when you've got an idea."_

Red cocked an antenna in skepticism.

Purple's eyes just said, 'you know I'm right'.

_"…So maybe I happen to have an idea_ this _time,"_ he said grudgingly, _"but I don't have a 'look'."_

Purple rolled his eyes.

Lard Nar coughed, reminding them of his existence. _"So you have a plan, do you?"_

_"You really don't want him to elaborate."_ Purple replied.

_"Hey!"_

_"Why's that?"_

_"When his plans go wrong, they go really, really wrong."_

_"Because_ someone _doesn't stick to them."_

_"Please, Red, your ideas have only caused trouble."_

_"Don't berate me in public."_

_"Why not, you smack me around enough."_

Red gritted his teeth. _"Perhaps we should get back to the situation at hand."_

_"You're right."_ He turned to face Lard Nar, _"To answer your question, Red's plans don't have a comforting success rate."_

Red sighed in frustration. _"Name one time."_

_"Let's see… Chemistry I, Chemistry II, Organic Chemistry, Chemistry III… how many times did we entirely decimate the science wing of the Academy?"_

_"Not_ nearly _as many times as Zim. We were_ smeets _for Irk's sake, and we were_ trying _to blow things up, if you remember. I_ always _got us out of it. Have any of my ideas as of late brought us any issues?"_

_"You haven't_ had _many ideas as of late, Red."_

_"That's not true at all. Before this whole mess, you had a pretty enthusiastic response to my last few propositions."_

_"What are you even talking about?"_

_"I'm pretty sure that most recently, it involved some clever new ways to enjoy ice cream. You_ really _seemed to be quite fond of a few of them."_ A devious grin told Purple everything he wanted to know, and just confused the three others on the opposite end of the communication.

Purple tried furiously to hide the blush he failed miserably at concealing. _"…I recant my earlier statement in light of new evidence."_

Red smiled victoriously and Purple grumbled aloud.

_"You're such a pain in the ass."_

_"You're not always easy on me, either. But it's all part of the experience, I suppose."_

Purple's jaw was tightly clenched, his face a mixture of horror and embarrassment.

_"Can we move on now?"_ Red asked.

_"I'm going to kill you in your sleep."_

_"Thanks for the warning."_

_"No problem."_

_"Somebody_ please _get to the point!"_ Lard Nar shouted, _"I don't have all day and the two of you bicker like life-mates! I can't believe_ you _actually have time to conquer the galaxy!"_

_"…O…kay."_

Red sighed, _"What if I told you that all this is bigger and worse than you know?"_

_"What the fuck are you doing, Red?!"_

_"Getting us out."_

_"What?"_ Lard Nar asked.

_"If I told you that Operation Impending Doom Two was just a smokescreen for something else. Something big. Something very, very bad."_

_"I would ask exactly what kind of bad you were talking about."_

_"The kind that could wipe out an entire universe. I'm talking about full-scale, all out, intergalactic war."_

_"Is that what you're planning to do next? Kill any race that dares to defy you?!"_

_"We won't… but_ They… _Irk will."_

_"Have you two completely gone mad?! You're the Tallest! All of Irk obeys you!"_

_"…And we obey someone else."_ Purple explained.

Three sets of eyes bulged so wide, no one would have been surprised if they fell out of their heads.

_"What?! That's absurd! I've never heard of anyone higher than the Tallest!"_

_"…Neither had we."_ Purple responded sadly.

_"Who tells you what to do, then?!"_

_"We don't really know." Red answered._

_"So you just do whatever they tell you and you don't even know why?! You just sit back and stuff your faces while you destroy entire planets and murder innocent survivors?! You're not even worthy enough to be called 'scum', you monsters! How do you live with yourselves?!"_

_"We remember that it would happen with or without our intervention, and play our parts as best we can so they won't have a reason to come after_ us _again."_

_"Sacrificing the many to spare the few."_

_"Believe me, no one is_ ever _spared. Obedience is not a matter of choice. We can either obey, and save ourselves some profoundly painful experience, or suffer the penalty for failing to comply, which ultimately results in compliance with the aforementioned order."_

_"You creatures know noting but selfishness!"_

_"Selfish, are we?"_ The chill in Purple's voice had been unexpected. _"They break our bodies and in spite of it, Red still finds it in him to crawl the fuck across the floor just so we can talk, and that makes him selfish? They detach my Pak and let my internal clock hit 9:48 before they decide to let me start breathing again because we refused to obey an order, so when we_ did _obey that order, it was because we got some satisfaction out of watching a planet die? They torture Red with chemical burns because I wouldn't kill a prisoner, and because I wanted to spare him from suffering, that means I enjoy cold-blooded murder?_

_After long enough, you learn to separate the person that you have to be from the person that you really are. You don't even notice their faces until you're out of the public eye. That's when you realize that he had a scar on his left knee, or her eyes sloped more than usual… all the details surface, and so does the guilt. No amount of time or tears will ever make it make it go away. You don't recognize your own reflection, after a while. The only anchor that tethers you to the world, the only reminder of who you are beneath the hateful person you've become, their life depends on the choices you make. I hate myself more than you will_ ever _know for the things I've done, and I hate the people who forced me to do them. Red is the only person that has ever given a shit, and I never did anything to deserve how much he's done for me. So yeah, I'm going to protect him with my last fucking breath. Maybe it_ is _selfish, 'Nar. But everyone's got to fight for_ something _."_

An awkward, sober silence descended between them.

_"… Touching, really, but you'll have to excuse my skepticism."_

Red just sighed and turned his back to the screen, his chest plate falling to the floor; the sound of the colliding surfaces catching everyone's attention.

Lard Nar was about to inquire what in the world he was doing when the Vortian's brain processed exactly what he was looking at. Though considerably faded, the oddly-shaped scars across the Irken's back were not hard to notice.

_"Holy hell, what are those?!"_

_"The result of a scalpel, a hydrogen-oxygen compound, and sulfuric acid."_

Purple had turned his head away, cringing in a mixture of self-reproach and sadness. _"It was my fault."_ He said to himself, too quietly to be heard.

Lard Nar, as well as the two others behind him were cringing as well, but for a different reason.

_"That must've REALLY hurt!"_ Another insight from the enigmatic mind ofShloonktapooxis.

Eyes half-closed in sarcasm, Red craned his neck in an effort to make eye contact. _"No, it_ tickled _. Really."_

" _What_ _did that to you?!"_ Lard Nar asked.

_"_ They _did. The people we answer to._ This _is one of the reasons we do what they tell us."_

_"…What could you have done to make someone so angry?"_ The fragile, shaking voice of the tiny Invader asked, standing virtually forgotten in the space from which she had not moved.

_"It was what we_ didn't want _to do that made them angry."_

_"I don't understand,"_ she said, as if the Achelous might spring from her at any moment, _"I don't understand…."_

_"It was_ my _fault. Red had nothing to do with it."_ Purple said from somewhere deep in his own thoughts, caught in a surreal trance that existed in both the past and present, still looking away.

_"Did they… you know…."_ asked Lard Nar.

_"Did they do that to me?"_ He asked, nodding toward his partner, finally changing his focus.

The Vortian nodded.

_"No."_

_"So what_ did _they do_?" Asked the second-in-command _._

_"…They made me watch."_

Lard Nar's mouth hung open; whatever words he'd been planning to say instantly died on his lips, and he never found them again, even after he finally recovered his voice. The grin that seemed permanently plastered to Shloonktapooxis's face was gone; replaced with a slack-jawed, crushing sort of disbelief. The sound that shattered the silence among both parties came from the female Invader's restraints as her knees gave out beneath her. She made no move to stand; the only sort of movement that she seemed capable of at all was the occasional blinking of her wide, pained eyes.

_"For most species, a pH of 7 is considered neutral. One of the drawbacks to adaptation is its unpredictability. To cope with the overwhelming amount of electrical charges from the Pak's interference, our pH level changed as we evolved to neutralize internal chemical reactions and keep us from spontaneously exploding and stuff. Time and technology have perfected that balance, at the cost of our ability to withstand acids. A hydrogen-oxygen compound most planets refer to as 'water' doesn't do much damage, but it does burn like hell, and it's only got a pH of 7._ Sulfuric acid _… well, if it weren't for the Pak's ability to repair injuries so quickly, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. This is relevant because I want you to understand_ exactly how painful _it was."_

He looked to his partner for confirmation that it would be all right to continue. He knew how much Red despised this sort of thing, and seeing as he had been the one to suffer the brunt of the trauma, the least that Purple could do was ask if he'd be all right with talking about it.

Red gave a nod, and a look that told him, 'go ahead, they need to hear this. I'm all right'.

With a sigh, Purple gazed at the floor and continued. _"Brilliant, really. Horribly, violently, cruelly brilliant. Almost like it's_ art _to them."_ He paused, his expression pained. _"They'd make a small surface incision, saturate it with water, and drop just a small amount of sulfuric acid directly into the cut. The cut was the least of the problems. The scalpel was metal, and left particles in the wound. Not to mention the fact that they were near his Pak, and sulfuric acid has a particular affection for metals. The water burned, but what it really did was give the acid something to bind to. Sulfuric acid eats up water like a 3-month-starved Hogulous at an all-you-can-eat ham buffet. And everyone in present company has seen the damage acids do to parts of a_ ship _. Imagine_ that _, times… oh, say, several_ billion _, and_ maybe _you're somewhere still light-years away from what this was like."_

_"I thought you said you_ never got _burned?"_

_"No, 'Nar. I said_ They _never burned me."_

The look of pain in the red Tallest's eyes was something that no one expected to see. He stared at his co-ruler with a profound sort of sorrow; a hurt sort of understanding. He fought against every fiber of his being that screamed for him to take the other in his arms, break down, and collapse to the floor. It was a battle he was slowly losing.

_"But how…"_

There was a silence that begged for an unspoken realization to be rectified. A wait for someone to interject with "no, no, no, _that's_ not what I'm talking about", but it never came.

_"Please,"_ there was an unanticipated desperation in the Vortian's voice, _"don't say that you…"_ His voice failed to articulate the words in his mind. He moved his lips but they never made it out.

_"He's always been far too hard on himself."_ Red offered, managing a small, weak smile.

_"Says_ you _of all people."_ Purple returned in a somewhat lighter voice with his own failing attempt at a grin.

_"What made 'em wanna hurt you so bad?"_ Asked Shloonktapooxis, effectively killing the lighthearted moment, however pathetically subdued it had been.

Purple shook his head and gave himself a beat of silence to collect his thoughts as he went through the events in his mind. _"I had never killed anyone before; at least, not with my own hands, not the way_ They _wanted it done. I was never told what this person's crime had been; only that I was supposed to execute them personally. I tried. For hours I just paced outside the door until_ They _came for me. Thinking on it now, I'd have murdered every Irken in existence if it would make that hell any less real. If I…," '_ never had to see that look on his face' " _when they brought me into that Medical Bay; he was already restrained, face-down… I begged them to just give me another second, and I'd blow the guy's brains out; if they wanted me to, I'd exterminate the whole_ block _, if it meant they'd just let Red go and punish_ me _instead._

_They laughed."_

He could still see Red's face clearer than any cliché could express in his mind. It wasn't like the frantic terror he'd seen the last time they'd encountered these men. It was an entirely new level of agony he hadn't imagined was in the realm of rational possibility. A desperation so deep it screamed, 'if you make it stop, you can have my soul', without irony or sarcasm.

_"They finally stopped after the pain drove him unconscious. I was given the option of doing as they asked or having Red endure a second round. …His name was Synn. He had these bright blue eyes, one of his antennae was curved opposite the way the other was… and his socks didn't match. I remember that."_

He'd entered the small holding cell pale and sick and shaking. Had he anything left in his stomach, he'd have thrown up, but he'd gotten it all out hours ago. He didn't even have to ask; the prisoner stood up immediately upon his entrance.

_"Greetings, my Almighty Tallest,"_

Hearing that title sent a fresh wave of nausea through him.

_"I am unworthy of your presence. I am former Irken Elite soldier Synn. Please pardon my appearance, Sir, I was not given notice of your arrival, I mean no disrespect."_

He was crying silently as he circled the prisoner, finally coming to a stop behind him. In a quick movement, before the other had realized what was happening, Purple held Synn in the proper position and choked out, _"Please forgive me"_ before snapping his neck; an action that rendered the former Elite soldier lifeless. Synn fell to the floor, and Purple turned his head away as the dead Irken collapsed, catching a glimpse of the of the prisoner's mismatched footwear. He stood there, puzzling over them for eight minutes before looking at Synn's face.

_"Your socks don't match."_

Purple shook his head and looked to Lard Nar. _"I told him that; after I broke his neck."_ He shook his head, _"Went back to our –_ his _room,"_ he explained, gesturing toward his partner, _"waited for him to wake up. He was in so much pain, for days … because of me. Couldn't look at him without feeling like I'd been the one pouring the acid myself. Worse, I couldn't even imagine what it felt like, or how badly he was suffering… I'd never had an encounter with anything like that, and I couldn't ask him, because I didn't want to make things worse. A couple days later I walked in on him while he was changing his bandages, quite poorly I might add, and I saw the physical damage it had done. Even at the rate we heal with the Pak, the wounds were still necrotic and seeping and raw._

_I ran. Hovered, whatever the fuck it is we do; didn't know where I was going, but I kept at it until I ended up in that terrible Medical Bay. Grabbed everything they used on Red, tore this piece of shit gauntlet off, and found out how it felt on the back of my hand. He found me by following the screaming._

_I remember what made every single one of those scars on his back. I can put them all in chronological order, if that will help convince you what we're talking about is_ very _real."_

_"…You never told me you actually_ learned _something in Chemistry."_ Red smiled weakly.

_"It was always more fun just to blow shit up with you."_

Red smiled affectionately at his co-leader, and for a brief moment, he almost forgot that they weren't alone. Immediately diverting any possible attention, he picked his discarded piece of armor up from off the floor. He _hadn't_ realized, though, that he now stood at an angle where the front of his body was mostly visible.

_"What's on your chest?"_ Lard Nar's curiosity, suddenly peaked.

_"Nothing."_

_"I just saw it… there's definitely_ something _there!"_

_"Is it 'everyone wants to see Red naked day' or something I didn't get a memo about?"_

Purple couldn't prevent the feral, protective glare he shot at those on the other end of the call, even though it went unnoticed.

_"Ugh, don't flatter yourself."_ Came Lard Nar's response _. "I know what I saw."_

_"Oh I wouldn't bet on it."_ Purple replied. _"That's another story I promise you don't want to hear."_

_"Getting back to the point"_ Red interrupted, _"in exchange for asylum, we'll help your resistance. We'll help you liberate planet Vort if you let Invader Tenn go."_

Shloonktapooxis hovered over to where the pink-eyed Irken sat, hunched over herself on the floor.

_"No…no, no, no, no, NO!"_ She shouted, clutching at her head. Looking into the faces of both her leaders with the broken expression of a betrayed child she pleaded, _"It's not true, it_ can't be _true, no one could hurt my Tallest like that…."_

They felt such sympathy for the brave Invader who had risked so much, begging before them in absolute ruin. The Tallest exchanged a look, and Purple offered a solemn nod.

_"Tenn…I'm…we're both so sorry,"_

_"We're not what you think we are."_

_"We never were."_

_"We're not wise, or all-knowing,"_

_"Or all-powerful, just because we're tall."_

_"We've never been special."_

_"Just profoundly unlucky."_

_"…But… how could someone…_ anyone _… you never did anything wrong. You never did_ anything _wrong. You never did anything wrong!"_ And for the first time in her life, Invader Tenn cried.

The soft-drink-sno-cone second-in-command just looked at her with uncharacteristic sympathy and lightly patted her shoulder with his straw-like antenna.

_"They want us to orchestrate a genocide."_ Purple said, staring painfully at the carpet.

Everyone's head snapped up and immediately turned toward the violet-clad dictator.

_"It's supposed to be a 'gradual process to help evolution along'. We don't know much about their motivation yet, but we do know it's directly connected to Impending Doom Two."_

_"You think what you're doing_ now _is_ any different _?!"_ Lard Nar flared.

_"Yes, there are mass casualties. And it's cruel to enslave those who surrender. But we're not talking about the unfortunate results of war. We're talking about wiping the universe clean of all 'unsuitable' life."_ Red explained.

_"Irken supremacy."_ His words were bitter and biting.

_"No. In fact, we're supposed to_ start _with Irk."_

_"But… that… that makes no sense!"_

_"I said 'all unsuitable life', 'Nar."_ Red reminded, _"It's not about allegiance or alliance. It's about something else entirely. We don't know_ what _it is, but we're_ going to _find out because we_ can't _let this happen."_

_"If…_ the Resisty," Purple said with more than a hint of distaste, _"wants any hope of defeating Irk, you're going to need information only_ we _can give you. What you learned from our little chat isn't even_ close _to the worst of it. Help us escape, and we promise to help you bring them down. And if you let Tenn go, the first thing we'll do is liberate Vort."_

_"Why are you so adamant about_ Vort _?"_ Lard Nar asked, almost protectively.

_"Not only does it happen to be_ your _home planet, but it's also where the top military researchers in the galaxy are being held. Irk relies almost solely on Vortian technology. Add the Vortian scientists to the Meekrobians, who you're obviously on good terms with since_ you're _the one using Tenn as leverage and we know she was working on Meekrob, and you've got yourself some heavy artillery. We're going to_ need _to compensate for numbers with firepower. It's also helpful that among the Meekrobians, Vortians, and the two of us, there's hardly a piece of technology that we'd be surprised by, or couldn't manipulate."_

Shloonktapooxis and Lard Nar exchanged a half-confused, half-defeated glance. _"I hadn't thought of that."_

_"We know you've got every reason not to trust us. I see the horrible thing I've become and I hardly recognize I'm looking at myself. They've taken away everything I've ever had and everything I've ever been. I don't exist in this…_ thing _that they've made me; some horrible, grotesque monster-version of what I used to be. What you see is just an empty shell. I have no claim to my_ physical body, _or what little of it still remains. I'm a sad little meat-puppet and nothing more. The only thing left of me is Red. He keeps that small shard of weathered hope alive in me. I lost my soul a long time ago. My body went long before that. If not for him, my heart would have been ripped out as well. I've seen what they've made me all too clearly; but it's Red that reminds me of the person I was once, and somewhere beneath the monster they've created, still am. Please."_

Lard Nar looked pained and troubled as he wrestled with his conflicting thoughts. He'd certainly not been prepared for things to go this way.

_"… What do you mean?"_ A quiet, listless female voice asked. _"Your body isn't yours anymore?"_

The violet-clad Irken spoke in a thin, tired voice, _"You don't want to know about it."_

_"It can't be worse than the acid burns, I'm sure."_ Lard Nar replied.

_"Those are pretty high up on the list of painful things we've experienced. This…"_ Red shook his head, _"this was a whole new level."_

Wide, disbelieving eyes stared at the Tallests in horror, asking the single word no one could articulate:

How?

_"Imagine you're still blissfully ignorant, having barely been out in the universe long enough to be disillusioned, and suddenly, you're pulled away from everything familiar, save one person, and finding out it's all been a lie. Then, imagine having your body tailored to fit this ridiculous costume; bound, pulled, torn, and cracked, all without the relief of painkillers. Imagine all those nasty sounds… bones cracking and snapping, tendons tearing and ripping, blood vessels breaking and rupturing, and the only person left in your life screaming his throat raw, calling out for help; more specifically, calling out for_ you _. Feel the guilt of knowing that you couldn't do a damn thing to save your best friend from being crippled. The weight of knowing that the unbearable agony pulsing through your mangled body is in his as well. I have never felt pain like that before or since."_

Nothing but dead silence filled the air.

_"WOW!"_ Shloonktapooxis had the uncanny ability to kill any moment with the sound of his voice alone.

Purple smacked his forehead, Red sighed in annoyance, Lard Nar offered a reprimanding glance, and Tenn looked to the First Mate with the barest ghost of what might have been a smile.

_"C'mon, Sir, we_ gotta _help 'em."_ He said resolutely.

_"But we still don't know it's not a trap."_

_"What will it take, 'Nar? What can we do to prove beyond suspicion that we're not lying? Do you want to get a doctor's opinion on whether or not we're telling the truth?!"_ Purple's voice cracked in desperation as he spoke. He looked like he was either going to start screaming or sobbing uncontrollably… maybe both, at the rate things were going. Red took notice of the small tremor in his partner's hands and knew that this could get very bad, very quickly if he didn't do something to intervene. If his co-ruler broke, Red was certain he wouldn't be able to hold himself together for long after. He wouldn't be able to withhold the comfort his partner needed, and he didn't know how to display platonic concern in regard to Purple. He wasn't sure he'd _ever_ been entirely platonic with Purple. At the same time, Red didn't trust the Resisty enough to clue them in on his romantic life; they'd made no agreement and could easily decide to turn on them at any given minute. Admitting the nature of his affections for Purple would give them unimaginable power and leverage over them. He didn't know if They had figured it out (Red supposed they had, as they seemed to know everything else), but to tell the Resisty would be putting them at even higher risk.

_"…Actually… that's not a bad idea."_

Purple seemed to relax and Red breathed a sigh of relief.

_"The question is how we do that."_ Lard Nar reminded, musing over possibilities in his head. _"We_ definitely _can't get on board the Massive without looking suspicious, and I doubt there's a way you could get to us, if you're as closely watched as you say you are."_

_"We'd have to pick some mutual planet that wouldn't be strange for either of us to be on."_ Red suggested.

Everyone's faces agreed, but no one could come up with a damned thing until,

_"Foodcourtia!"_

_"Ugh, what about it, Shloonktapooxis?"_ Lard Nar asked.

_"It's the_ PERFECT _place to meet up! It's an Irken snacking planet, but it's full of ALL KINDS of aliens!"_

Red and Purple exchanged a glance and shrugged simultaneously.

_"He's got a point."_ Red stated, to no one in particular.

_"You're a strange little guy, you know that?"_ Purple asked.

Shloonktapooxis nodded with a grin, _"Yes, Sir!"_

_"You're hyperactive, hardly make sense, and I'm not quite sure_ what _you contribute… but I like you. Don't ask me_ why _,"_ Purple grinned, _"but I like you."_

_"Woo hoo! That rocks, man – you're awesome too!"_

Lard Nar shook his head with an annoyed sigh. _"We'll meet you on Foodcourtia in… when's the fastest you can make it there? Two days? I'll send the time and coordinates through this channel."_

The two Tallests nodded.

_"What about Invader Tenn?"_ Red asked. She looked somewhat better, but far from all right.

Lard Nar was about to answer when Tenn spoke for herself. _"Please… my – I don't know what to call you anymore… just please, if you wouldn't mind… just 'Tenn'…."_

Red nodded sympathetically. _"It's 'Red' and 'Purple', Tenn."_ He replied, _"That's all you need to call us."_

She nodded, _"I appreciate your kindness, R-Red and Purple… but I just… I can't…,"_ she paused and drew a breath, _"I have nothing to go back to."_

_"Why don'tcha just stay here?"_ Shloonktapooxis asked, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. _"We have the room, and you'd be totally welcome on the crew, plus, you were an Invader and we're gonna need help to protect our allies_ from _Invaders. And stuff."_

Though he never seemed to be playing with a full deck, Shloonktapooxis certainly had his moments. Red supposed this was Lard Nar's reason for promoting him to First Mate. Either that, or he'd simply been the second person who had joined the crew.

_"We'll be there, too. Trust me, you don't want to try and deal with this alone."_ Purple added.

She let out a short, bitter laugh. _"Sure, why not? It's not like I have anywhere else to be."_

_"Get some rest, Tenn. Kick 'Nar in the shins if you need anything."_ Purple instructed.

_"Hey!"_

_"You look like you need some cheering up! Let's get you some ice cream! Ice cream is AWESOME! Then you can pick out your quarters and I'll introduce you to everybody!"_

Tenn, unable to comprehend the innate enthusiasm of the creature, nevertheless stood up and resolved to follow him. She nodded toward her former leaders, who each bid her an overlapping farewell. Shloonktapooxis's excited voice could be heard even after they'd left the room.

_"Hey, Pur, speaking of ice cream,"_

_"If you finish that sentence, you're sleeping on the couch."_

_"Why would he have to do that?"_ A bewildered Lard Nar asked.

_"…Because… I'll put a Carnivorous Possum-Headed Swamp Beast in his bed."_

'Nice save' Red mouthed.

* * *

He recalled Purple saying something about feeling as if they'd "switched places" lately, or something to that effect. Sitting in a conference room, in the company of sworn enemies still harboring grudges and vendettas, he found himself in distress under the harshness of their piercing glances. Matters of diplomacy had always been effortless for Red; casual and confident, he spoke shamelessly uncensored, always with the same teasing smirk. He had always felt so at home in front of people who hated him. He used to love making his presence known in such audiences, flaunting his superiority whenever the opportunity presented itself. His partner, on the other hand, tended to shy away from making public statements, unless it was at some kind of Irken ceremony. He always seemed to lose interest during negotiations, or was simply unnerved by them.

Red fidgeted with his claws, noticing his partner's unwavering calm. He had expected to hear the nervous drumming sound of fingers clicking against the table, but to his surprise, he found his partner's hands completely steady and his posture relaxed. Red, who once thrived at functions like this, had actually shrunk into his seat under the weight of the angry glares directed at the both of them. He would never admit to it, but sitting among the hateful stares and angry murmurs, he actually felt intimidated.

He considered asking Purple how he was coping with the circumstances that filled him with such anxiety, but before he could come up with an appropriate way to phrase it, the other had taken hold of the hand that had previously been the object of Red's intense study.

"Hey, don't look at me like that; you've got nervous habits too, you know."

Red managed a small smile and a sigh. He was about to respond when Lard Nar cleared his throat and called the meeting to order.

"All right, everyone," the Captain said, "as you all know, we began this resistance with a single purpose – a common goal. That goal was freedom. Freedom from enslavement, oppression, and most of all, freedom from fear. We sought to never again live in fear of death and destruction, of having our friends and family taken from us without reason or warning. We fought for our people and our planets, in an effort to bring down the Irken Empire,"

Red's white-knuckled grip on his partner's hand was all that kept his fear from manifesting itself outwardly. So much hate in their faces, too much pain reflected in their eyes, such hardened expressions of loss and anguish… all of them asking what he had to say for himself. He realized then that he was finally going to be held accountable for what he had done. He had, for so long imagined his moment of reckoning. Not once had it ever looked like this.

His partner, though, had a different sort of demeanor. Almost akin to what their former enemies displayed, only so much deeper with a darker kind of sadness.

"but we have been mistaken."

Shocked faces demanded to know what he was talking about, what was going on, and general pandemonium ensued until the soft-drink-sno-cone shouted for everyone to quiet down in a voice so loud it seemed to rock the entire ship. Red added 'megaphone' to his mental list of useful things Shloonktapooxis functioned as.

"There are forces much more sinister at its heart than the obvious parts of the Irken Machine."

"Why are _they_ here?!" A frustrated creature, short in stature with a screw at the top of his large yellow head furiously interjected. "And why are they not in restraints?! They ought to be in a holding cell!"

An angry Meekrobian added his two cents as well. "They _ought_ to be dead! Your broadcast said you killed them!"

Indeed it had. Across the universe, on every frequency, Lard Nar and fellow crewmembers had stood in shadow, projecting an ominous silhouette; the Captain spoke with the aid of a voice modulator they had heard before, in a forceful, commanding tone.

Red and Purple had watched the performance from a distance and concluded that though he was prone to panic and poor planning, Lard Nar could make one hell of a speech. Everyday chitchat, though, was entirely a different matter. Red supposed that perhaps if they had a conversation in which he _wasn't_ actively trying to torment the poor alien to the point where he felt the need to drink bleach, communication might flow a little more coherently.

Calm and collected, he sat in his chair and delivered his short speech, which aired only moments before the Advisor to the Tallest and the Task Force team leader were to give some long, flowery bullshit excuse for what had happened to them, and what they'd uncovered during their investigation. Irk might have been sold on their Paks being deactivated, but it would look _quite_ suspicious if their bodies failed to surface and the cause of death was never concrete. After coaching him on what to say, Lard Nar proceeded to put it into his own words,

_"The fate of Irk's former Tallests remains something of a mystery to the universe. Not even the Irken government knows what became of them. They have not recovered their bodies, as they undoubtedly would like to claim. They do not even know_ where _to search. They haven't a clue how your beloved former leaders met their "untimely" demise. I know this because_ I know _the truth behind what happened. I know it to be the truth because_ I was there _. I know how they died, because_ I killed them _. Not myself alone, but with the aid of others like myself; others who refused to suffer under the tyranny of their rule. Let this be a warning to all of Irk, and hope to all of those who endure Irken enslavement: the fight is far from over. Our resistance is small, but we are indeed strong, and you have certainly not seen the last of us. You will not find the remains of your former leaders. They were immediately carried off world and cremated. Perhaps you will learn what it feels like to have something of reverence and pride conquered, ripped away, and disgraced, like the people you have enslaved. Over, and out."_

Irkens did not have any particular religious practices unique to their culture; even if they had, they were long forgotten by now. Their faith was placed more in their system of social hierarchy, with the Tallest positioned at the height. It was the easiest and most obvious method of class distinction, and the reasoning behind it was so simple and logically sensible that there was no counter-argument that could win out.

Sometimes, Oakum's Razor is a real bitch.

Power through intimidation.

The Irken social stratification provided every single member of the race with a particular job. An array of occupations were available within certain heights, and the control brains, through an objective analysis of an individual (primarily statistical probabilities based on past performance substituted for variables in a particular equation), an Irken was encoded. Occasionally, as the result of percent-error, there will be one or two misplaced Irkens. This situation can easily be remedied by simple re-encoding. Then there's always that 0.0001 chance that a defective Irken could make it through the system until the encoding process where it would _again_ go unrecognized as a defective, then inadvertently destroy two consecutive leaders and single-handedly wipe out almost the entire race.

But such circumstances are _highly_ unlikely.

What made the Irken system of government any different from any feudal system was that, rather than monies, social status was literally based on height. The leaders of any political system are not often selected based on their intelligence. Rather than wealth, assets, or religious status, the reasoning was that Irkens at their core were aggressive and assertive by nature, and therefore, needed leaders who appeared more physically capable than they perceived themselves to be. It was indeed true that stature made a difference in one's hand-to-hand combat capabilities. Why would any body of creatures born and bred to fight not respect someone more physically intimidating? Biological and social survival needs were adequately covered. Emotional survival was unnecessary and its development did not need to be fostered.

With no deity worthy of praise, their worship and reverence focused on the Tallest. Since they held so much reverence for their leaders, it was considered a great offense for their bodies to rest on any planet other than Irk. Their Paks would be placed on display in the palace, and their bodies stored in something akin to a mausoleum. Burning the body of a Tallest was unthinkable.

It had been perfect.

"Well?"

Red and Purple looked to each other, and then to Lard Nar, who looked lost and helpless.

"Really, 'Nar? You didn't tell them?" Purple asked.

The Captain shot a nervous glance at the floor.

"Tell us _what_?" asked the Screw-headed creature.

" _Anything_ , apparently." Red sighed, "This is,"

"Unbelievable." Purple finished. "You didn't think to call,"

"Or send a memo, or something? Everyone _except_ you guys was supposed to think you killed us."

"Please tell me you didn't have Spleenk leaving voice messages."

"We need to talk about Spleenk, actually,"

"He should be transferred to a different department,"

"And tested for Dyslexia,"

"Dyscalculia, while he's at it."

"What the _hell_ is going on?!" Demanded the angry yellow alien flushing bright red. "What were you supposed to tell us, Lard Nar? Why are they alive, what are they doing here… why the hell are they talking like that?!"

"You should see them when they bicker." Lard Nar replied.

"I don't _care_ about their bickering, 'Nar, I think you owe us some answers! This is completely- wait. Are the two of you _holding hands_?"

They offered nervous, uncomfortable smiles feeling suddenly very self-conscious. It wasn't that they had any particular reason to lie about the nature of the dynamic between them in the present company… they just didn't want to deal with all the questions that would inevitably follow. It was also probably something of a trust issue as well, seeing as the less people that knew, the less likely they were to be used against each other.

"Um… yes…" Purple responded, as if he were talking to someone with the IQ of chalk. "You see how our palms are pressed together and our hands are clasped like that?"

The creature sighed in annoyance. "Yes, I can _see that_ , thank you. I was wondering more along the lines of _why_."

"Well, you should have just asked that to start with."

Red was impressed with how his partner had taken control of the situation.

"Don't treat me like a fool; you're in our territory now, Irken, so watch your step."

"I would, but it's a bit difficult with the hover-belt on."

This was the sort of thing Red liked to do. Taunt the person at the other side of the table with witty barbs and exchange comebacks until the opponent ran in circles and their head exploded. Psychologically own the opponent and humiliate them in front of important leaders; to render their reputation useless in the span of a single conversation and make a grand display of their incompetence and incapability in front of as many people as he could. They could offend anyone, any way they wanted, because Red could turn the offended party into a dunce with a single word.

…Well, that was _somewhat_ of an exaggeration.

The head thing had only happened once.

As if _he_ were minutes from exploding, the yellow alien commanded Purple's attention. "From now on, it's like this," he said, "when I ask you a question, I get an answer, and I think the question was fairly simple."

"Trust me, you _really_ don't want to know." Lard Nar interjected.

"Don't tell me what _I_ want, 'Nar!"

Purple offered the kind of smile that Red seldom saw grace his lips in public. "Hey, Red, this guy wants to know why you're holding my hand."

"Oh Vort, here it goes." 'Nar mumbled to himself, shaking his head, wondering what he'd done in life to deserve this.

Red returned the grin, taking the hint from his partner and playing along. "Well, there are other parts of you I'd _much_ rather be holding, but I was opting for tasteful discretion."

"To my knowledge, I don't think you've shown ' _tasteful discretion'_ in the last… twenty years, maybe?"

"Twenty years?! I'm offended, Pur. It's much closer to fifty."

"You are positively a scoundrel."

"I've never heard you complain about it before."

"I said you were a scoundrel, not that I had a particular problem with it."

"So I'm a scoundrel, am I?" A sly grin and a sigh, "What do you suppose the appropriate term for 'one who spends the entire length of a formal political diner party doing all manner of unspeakable things to his partner under the table' would be?"

He played dumb. "I've not a clue."

"Come now, you must have _some_ suggestion."

"No, Red, I've none at all."

"I think I've got one."

"Really? Let's hear it then."

"How about 'Purple'? Fits the definition perfectly."

"While we're on the subject of vocabulary, I seem to have forgotten the proper term for 'one who _enjoys_ such things'."

"Obviously the term you're looking for is 'Red'."

"I don't have time for this nonsense!" Came the shout of the alien not very well trained in the subject of context clues, "I _demand_ an explanation!"

"Oh, please don't. Once those two get started, they'll be going at it for hours. …Holy mother of Vort, it's spreading." He said, a look of horror written on his face.

"Good one, 'Nar." A surprised and amused Red replied.

"Someone had better explain what the hell is going on! I feel like I'm yelling at a wall!" The infuriated yellow alien thundered, effectively grabbing the attention of every creature present.

"Okay, uh, whatever your name is. It's like this."

Purple took a step closer to Red and kissed him deeply. The entire room was dead silent, with the exception of Lard Nar, who had muttered "Just tell me when it's over" under his breath to his second-in-command.

"I thought you wanted to curb the PDA." Red reminded breathlessly.

"I do. But he asked for it."

"That's hardly fair."

"Why?"

"Because you always make _me_ beg."

Purple grinned. "Not _always_."

Red chuckled quietly taking hold of both his partner's hands, threading their fingers together. "You're terrible." He placed a quick, soft kiss on the other Irken's cheek, "I love you."

The room was still silent when they took their seats and settled in, having grown used to the saucer-eyed stares.

Lard Nar cleared his throat, "Incase anyone needs a recap or a translation, that's Red and Purple, former Tallests of Irk, and, uh, they're… quite close."

Red rolled his eyes. "'Nar, your conversational skills are truly a thing of wonder."

"…Can somebody slow down and rewind a minute?" The desperately confused Meekrobian asked. "Because if I just saw what I _think_ I did, there's a whole lot of explaining that needs to be done."

"I was getting to that before our friend Smikka Smikka Smoodoo interrupted and provoked another retina-scarring display. Don't worry, you'll get used to them in _no time_." He said painfully, eyeing Red and Purple, who glanced around the room in mock ignorance, as if they had no idea what he could possibly be talking about. "It so happens that circumstances are far more dire than we thought. So much, in fact, that Irk's former Tallests have appealed to us for asylum. And we have granted it."

As expected, much incoherent, angry yelling followed Lard Nar's statement. The Vortian, having finally run out of patience, jumped several feet off his chair and shouted over everyone, flapping his arms wildly, "If you'd all just stop interrupting me, I'd get to the point a whole lot faster!"

Lard Nar relaxed in the newfound quietness for a moment before continuing. "I know you've all got questions. I'm going to explain everything."

The Vortian had summed things up in a fairly concise manner. He briefly discussed the meeting on Foodcourtia and details of the escape, and then handed the floor to Red and Purple, who provided as much information as they could about the true nature of the Irken Empire as objectively as possible. They stayed away from recounting specifics of their less-than-pleasant encounters, figuring that such things would come up eventually and there'd be plenty of time for those stories to be told. Those gathered still remained visibly suspicious, but eventually, everyone eased gradually into accepting their explanation and seemed to be comfortable with it. "Comfortable" was perhaps too ambitious a word. It was really more that they looked a lot less like they wanted to rip them apart.

"Now that we have _that_ out of the way," said Lard Nar, interrupted once again by the cranky Smikka Smikka Smoodoo.

"What do you mean 'out of the way'?" He asked, narrowing his eyes, "I haven't agreed to _anything_."

Lard Nar sighed, rubbing his temples as if he could feel the beginnings of a headache. "You know all how much I hate to do this type of thing, but you've got to trust that I'm doing it because it's in the best interest of everyone, present and absent. This is a matter on which I'm pulling rank."

The volume of noise was unexpected and caused even Shloonktapooxis to jump, having been so startled. It was impossible to catch anything coherent in the mangled sounds, each muffled by another.

"You can't just…"

"…do you get off pulling that shit…"

"…-uck are we supposed to,"

"they're killers,"

"…you're insane,"

"We ought to start a mutiny,"

"-even hear what you're say-"

"the reason we're here in the first place"

Unable to stand the maddening incoherence thundering in his skull, Red finally snapped, yelling, "Leave him alone, would you?!" He took the short moment of silence following his outburst to continue, before someone called him a barbaric monster, or something synonymous with it. "Look; you hate us. We _know_ you hate us, and you've got every reason to. No one here, _especially_ Purple and I, are going to deny you that, tell you to automatically forgive us, or force us anyone here to kiss and make up,"

"Actually, _no one's_ going to be doing _any_ kissing of _either_ of us. Particularly of Red." That same protective, territorial scowl appeared on Purple's face as he spoke.

A short sigh and a discreet eye roll at his partner's behavior. "We know that we've done awful things. Call us whatever you want, it's nothing we haven't called ourselves. Deal with us as you see fit when this nightmare ends for good. Pass your judgment then. We don't have the time to go back and forth with the same shit until one of us gives in. If you're going to be one of the ranking members of this resistance,"

" _The Resisty_." Smikka Smikka Smoodoo reminded, making Purple cringe and bringing a short grimace to Red's face.

"I _hate_ that _name_." Purple seethed under his breath.

Shloonktapooxis floated a little higher, as if to give the impression that he were sitting up straighter, "Actually, me and Purple have a suggestion about that whole name thing."

"Oh really? And what would that be?"

"Well, on account of it sounding so… well, LAME, we thought we should maybe pick something else, you know?"

"Well _I_ happen to like it."

" _Of course_ you do." The former tallest muttered under his breath.

"But it's… just so LAME!" Shloonktapooxis was certainly demonstrating his master knowledge of negotiation and his well-learned language skills.

"What did you have in mind?"

" _Pirate Monkeys_! I mean, come on, somebody hears that the _Pirate Monkeys_ are attacking, it's like 'oh hell no, we can't _handle_ the _Pirate Monkeys_!' or like, 'did you hear about what the _Pirate Monkeys_ did to the Armada?!' like, 'damn, those _Pirate Monkeys_ are badass!' 'watch out, man, there's a _Pirate Monkey_ threat on the planet!'… so much more AWESOME than _The Resisty_."

Though Purple was sure his IQ had just dropped several points, it _still_ sounded way better than _Resisty_.

After a long moment of silence, Lard Nar looked Red. "You were saying?"

"Right. You've got to put aside your personal feelings toward us for as long as we have to be in the same room because whether you like it or not, nobody here can do a damned thing unless we work together. All the technology in the universe won't matter if you don't know the right battles to fight with it. If you put your every resource into conquering the Armada, you're playing into Their hands. You're all exactly what we were to Them; exactly what They wanted. They've got complete control of you, and the entire resistance movement, and They probably don't know who any of you are."

"If we can't find some way to collaborate," his partner spoke, "we might as well just give them the universe right now. By being here, simply the act of revealing our continued existence to you, we're risking absolutely _everything_. Granted, we don't have a single possession between us, but for all the innuendo, inappropriate, offhanded comments, and how funny it is watching Lard Nar look like he's going to vomit his intestines out, there is absolutely _nothing_ casual about what Red and I mean to each other. Roll your eyes all you want, Som Saa. I don't care what you, or any other Meekrobian thinks. If you've got a single reason to doubt me, I'd love to hear it."

The Meekrobian hadn't been expected that he'd be called out like this, but reclined effortlessly in his seat. "Pffft. You're _Irken_."

Purple's expression read _'And…'_

"Your species doesn't know how to do anything you aren't _programmed_ for." He said in a mocking voice, "Machines don't feel. They don't _think_ , have minds of their own, and they _certainly_ don't love. You run on _batteries_!" He laughed, " _Toys_ run on batteries. They're fun to play with, don't get me wrong, and it sounds like the two of you have _quite_ a bit of fun _playing_ with each other; but that's all it is."

Red caught Purple's fist as his partner drew it back with every intention of beating the Meekrobian's brains into the floor. The violet-eyed Irken could practically hear the solid crack of the other's skull breaking against the ground on impact as a powerful swing collided with his head. He could almost feel the alien's blood covering his hands, soaking up to his wrists; He could see himself mercilessly pummeling the creature with his own two fists, wet chunks of crushed brain splattering everywhere, bashing until his head was nothing but a mutilated mess of ruptured, blood-drenched tissue. He could feel all of it, on him, soaking through his clothes, into his veins, itching and clawing beneath his skin.

He opened his eyes and found himself staring into worried red ones. He took a deep breath and sat back down, trying to erase the image in his mind. He felt Red's grip slowly loosen; as if he were wary of what might happen if he couldn't subdue Purple in the event he should lose his temper.

"I'm fine." He explained. Red opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Purple gently squeezed his hand, "I'm fine." Maintaining a loose grip on his partner's hand, he sighed while he took a moment to gather his thoughts.

Unexpectedly, it was Shloonktapooxis who broke the tense, heavy silence. He spoke in a tone that was _more_ unexpected than the sheer fact that it was he who spoke in itself. With a disgusted, scornful look that no one in present company had ever seen before, he looked directly at Som Saa. "You make me _sick_."

If anything could be said for sure about Shloonktapooxis, it was that _nothing_ could really be said for sure.

Faces looked from one to the other, completely confused but deeply engrossed in the events unfolding before them.

"Who are you to judge them? You have _no idea_ what hell they've been through, and they've burned in it a whole LOT longer than you EVER will." The raw anger in his voice was almost disturbing, coming form what they all had supposed was a stupid creature with a fixed smile. "If you want to play the _race card,_ let's start with Meekrob. What about _your_ race, Som Saa?"

"What _about_ us?"

Som Saa, Red thought, was doing exactly what _he_ used to. All those puerile playground-politics he'd become notorious for. Haughty and prideful and downright mean. Well, he had seen what happens to the wicked and proud when they decide to try to take on the throne for the crown. He would have his turn to speak soon enough, and would teach the Meekrobian the most important rule of the game he was trying to play; point out the fatal flaw that Red had already discovered in his methods. Until then, he gave Shloonktapooxis the floor.

"You're just about as advanced as the _Irkens_ , aren't you?"

The Meekrobian laughed deep in his throat, " _Irkens_ get all their weaponry from the _Vortians_. They don't actually have the _brains_ or _creativity_ to design them; all they can do is follow directions and produce them. And the people of Meekrob don't need to worry about changing their batteries."

Purple's hand twitched slightly, but he didn't move. Shloonktapooxis wanted to respond, but could summon no words, so instead, shot the Meekrobian the nastiest glare he could form. Lard Nar made a mental note to never, ever, under any circumstance piss his First Mate off, and tried out the name ' _Pirate Monkeys'_ in his head, getting a feel for how it sounded.

The former crimson-eyed Tallest took the silence as the opening bell for round one. "I know _exactly_ what you mean, Som Saa."

A statement that took everyone, the aforementioned Meekrobian included, by surprise. "You do?"

"These Paks are _such_ an inconvenience. You can only make repairs ten minutes at a time, or kaput, you know? I mean, they're great for a whole bunch of stuff, but I'd rather have 'batteries not included' as my tagline any day." He paused, releasing Purple's hand, letting it drift over his shoulder, down his neck, and delicately ran his fingers along the embossed patterns on his partner's Pak. "You ever see one of these up close?" He asked, gesturing for Purple to swing his legs to the side of the chair and turn his body enough to give Som Saa a better view. "Here, take a look."

Purple had no idea what his partner was doing, but he trusted him, and Red always had a plan. Even if it involved stealing a bag of sheepweasel eyes from the dissection supply freezer and putting it in the Administrator's drawer as a practical joke. He hoped Red had put a bit more thought into this one, though.

"It's much more complicated than a battery, really." His focus drifting away from the machine and traced upward with his eyes. "Much more like," Red began as he lazily drew circles around the base of one of his partner's antennae, "an override-brain." He felt a shudder beneath his clawed fingers and gave a little smirk before snaking the sensory apparatus around one of them, occasionally using the other to 'accidentally' brush against it.

Grinning at Purple's half-lidded expression, Red finally stopped torturing his partner and lightly kissed the top of his head as he rose to his feet. "It's a lot of scientific blah, blah, blah, so I won't bore you with details. The point is, you see, we can't live without it because our nervous systems get overwhelmed by the basic demands of functioning that everything goes into shock and shuts down, one system at a time. Doesn't sound like much fun, does it?"

"What's the point of this?"

"The point? Well, if we were _just_ machines, as you've made clear, and we can't feel _anything,_ it would follow that the whole process would be just like a computer shutting down, or unplugging an automatic mixer, am I right?"

"Exactly."

"Tell you what. How about we send for someone to grab a holo-visor and a pair of data cables? That way, you can watch a little something and _then_ tell me if your opinion is any different."

Som Saa made the Meekrobian gesture equivalent to crossing one's arms. "I don't know what you think this is going to do, but sure. Go ahead. It'll only serve to prove my point."

Shloonktapooxis gave a nod toward the Irken, a bitter glare at the Meekrobian, and went to collect the items Red had mentioned.

"You don't have to do this, you know." His partner said quietly, amongst the murmuring voices that filled the room shortly after the strangely-shaped alien had left. "I don't care what they think."

Red sighed, sitting beside his former co-leader. "I know that." He said, "They need some kind of proof that 'Nar hasn't lost his mind and that the danger we're talking about isn't a joke. They need to listen to us, and they'll never have a reason to unless we can prove to them that we know what we're talking about."

"Then hook him up to _my_ memory storage."

"Don't worry about it, I'll be,"

"If you really want to prove your point, Red, the only way to do it is through me. I'm the one they disconnected. Everything you want him to feel was recorded by my internal backup."

"…I was hoping you'd forget about that."

"Let me do this. You don't _always_ have to be trying to save me. Let me save you every once in a while."

He sighed, offering a small hint of a smile, "So I'm playing the heroine this time?"

Purple grinned. "Damn right. I'll be all dramatic and rescue you from some horrible angst and whisk you away to someplace where we'll live in domestic bliss."

"No ponies and unicorns?"

"That's the sequel."

"Oh really?"

"It's got elves."

"You're insane."

"And you're stuck with me. What a shame."

"I know, it's a terrible, terrible tragedy."

"Well, I suppose you could always return me."

"Yeah, but I lost my receipt."

"Strict exchange policy, eh?"

"Yep. You know how those can be."

"And now you've got to keep me forever."

"What a pity. I'll just have to deal with being completely satisfied for the rest of my life."

"What a compromise. How will you _ever_ survive?"

Red touched his hand underneath his partner's chin and drew the other into a quick, light kiss. "Oh, I'm sure I'll manage _somehow_."

Purple couldn't help but grin. Their conversation had been amusing, yes, but it was more the smile the other sported that provoked his expression.

As their luck would have it, the moment ended all too soon. Shloonktapooxis had reentered the meeting room, carrying with him the items Red had asked for. His smile turned to a grimace, and he muttered "Fuck" under his breath.

"Well then," Som Saa taunted, "let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

Red's face flushed with anger for a moment but Purple offered no response to the tone of the Meekrobian's voice. He simply stood up and looked to his partner, waiting for him to begin.

"You do know _you're_ going to feel it, too?" Red reminded, hoping to change the other's mind.

Purple nodded. "I can handle this, Red."

He rose from his seat with a sigh, hoping to rid the anxiety from his voice. Why had he agreed to let Purple do this? Red knew _he_ could withstand the process; he understood the mechanics of it and knew exactly how to minimize the effects of the recall. His partner, on the other hand, had absolutely no experience with this type of circuit. It was really going to hurt him, regardless of how immune to this memory he perceived himself to be. It wasn't because he was too weak or emotional; no, Red knew that was not the case at all. It was simply the nature of the process. This wasn't simple _remembering_. It wasn't watching from a distance or even being trapped in a nightmare. This was something else entirely.

Reluctantly, Red opened his partner's Pak and pressed several different buttons to unlock the access panel protecting his memory drive. It beeped in affirmation, allowing him to slide the protective door out of the way, revealing input and output connection ports. He secured the cables in the proper corresponding ports, then made sure that the holo-visor was properly functioning, and secured it to fit Som Saa's head.

"I thought _you_ were going to be proving some sort of point."

Red tightened the visor around the other alien's head just a bit more. "My partner informed me that his data was more appropriate to the topic at hand. As much as I hate to admit it, he's right, though this is something he definitely doesn't need and one of the last things I want him to do."

Purple rolled his eyes, "Stubborn fuck." He said without malice, giving his partner a small, knowing smile.

He couldn't help the short laugh that escaped him. "Bullshit cretin." Red sighed, shaking his head. "You make me crazy, you know that?"

"Particularly in bed, as I recall."

"Before you make the whole room vomit, can we get this over with? You're a waste of time and I'm quite eager to get rid of you both."

"You heard him, Red." Purple spoke in a hateful, dangerous tone; eyes narrowed in slits, glaring viciously at the alien seated next to him. "Let's do him a favor and show him something _good_."

Red would have normally been scared at the sound of his partner's voice, but with his fists clenched and blood boiling, he looked at Purple with a twisted, wicked grin. A feeling they hadn't shared since the middle of their reign, a time when they had done things for which there was no hope of redemption.

The Meekrobian rolled his eyes. "This thing is tight. Fix it."

Red deliberately increased the constricting pressure of the holo-visor. "I'm sorry, _dear_ , it might be just a _little_ tight, but it's necessary. You see, it works by converting the data from his Pak into electrical signals that the visor sends to your brain. Don't worry, the process is _completely_ painless. However, I feel I should warn you before we start," Red spoke slowly, in a mocking tone of voice, "because of the way it works, you are going to experience this particular memory _exactly_ as it was. That means you're going to see what he saw, hear what he heard, but most importantly, you are going to _feel_ what he _felt_. I suggest you take a minute to reconsider."

Som Saa laughed without a moment of hesitation. "You know, Red, you're not very threatening at all without an army behind you."

Entering the necessary sequence into Purple's memory output replay panel, he looked at the "enter" key with reluctant eyes.

Purple turned toward Red, catching his eyes and nodding for him to proceed. "Keep me safe while I'm gone, okay?"

Red kissed the other Irken quickly and whispered, "I love you" as he pressed the key and completed the command. He immediately felt ill, rushing to face his partner, throwing his arms around the other's neck and trying desperately to keep some measure of composure. He couldn't have the people whose confidence he needed see him turn into a sobbing wreck. They'd just assume he was too unstable to be taken seriously and out of his mind in general. They couldn't understand it.

"…Are… um, is everything all right?" Lard Nar's worried voice, full of atypical concern.

Red looked up and spoke without emotion in his voice. "I just sent him to hell."

And in a way, he had.

It wasn't the worst memory, nor was it the most painful, but it had been devastating enough in its own right. It was the moment in which their hope died. It was when they had for the first time truly understood that they had no degree of control. When they realized that their lives depended entirely on their obedience, and that protecting each other meant destroying so many innocents. They had heard the slam of metal bars, confining them to a prison unlike any they had ever imagined. The moment in which they had accepted that they were not their own.

"He didn't mean it LITERALLY!" Shloonktapooxis said over the growing confusion. "He was talkin' 'bout what they're _experiencing_ , you know, right now."

Red just nodded. "By the way, somebody might want to make sure Som Saa doesn't fall out of his chair and have a seizure or something." He said idly, feeling Purple start to twitch in obvious discomfort.

"Why?" Smikka Smikka Smoodoo asked.

"Because the next ten minutes are going to be very, _very_ painful."

Several aliens present reached the Meekrobian just in time, as he thrashed violently and let out a harsh scream. Red anxiously tended to his partner whose face was contorted in pain, every muscle in his body tensed as if he were trying to keep himself from manifesting the worst of it. He sat on the other's lap, hoping it would help calm him as well as keep him from injury, and offered the little touches he knew Purple liked. He wasn't sure that it was any sort of useful, but he needed to try. He felt his partner's chest suddenly heave, his breathing becoming erratic and frantic before he started to spasm. He coughed, choking on the air he couldn't feel his lungs take in. Red just held onto him tightly, at a complete loss for solutions and helplessly consumed with fear. Purple kept calling for him between wet, hacking coughs and heavy gasps, until he went quiet and limp. Red shakily checked for a pulse, which was a little high, and felt somewhat relieved.

Purple blinked his eyes in confusion for a moment before Red's face came into focus and he smiled wearily at the Irken in his lap. "See? Told you I'd be okay."

"God, Pur, you are _so very far_ from 'okay' right now."

"I know. But it's not nearly as bad as I expected. Thanks for keeping me safe."

"Please. Nothing I did was any kind of help. All I did was make sure you didn't fall over."

"I know it was more than that. And I'm grateful. What did our angry little friend think?"

"I honestly wasn't paying attention to him."

"Wow. Red, check it out. That's… wow."

Red looked over at the Meekrobian, who was covered in his own vomit, shaking in his seat, begging for someone to get the visor off. The aliens in his vicinity had been unfortunate enough to experience everything he'd eaten in the last day or so, and felt content to let him suffer a while. Red sighed and removed the visor from Som Saa's head.

"Clean yourself up. You're covered in puke."

"Wha…"

"Somebody, take him to the bathroom. Shloonktapooxis, call somebody in here for cleanup. 'Nar… I think this is a good time for a break, yes?"

"…Um, yes, a break would do everyone some good."

* * *

"We've been incredibly productive, wouldn't you say?"

"I don't think I've ever met anyone as sarcastic as you are." Lard Nar said.

"Awww, 'Nar, that's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me." Red replied, feigning modesty.

"I think he's starting to like us." Purple added in a similar manner.

"Must you make it a mission to drive me to the brink of insanity? Can't you get your perverse pleasure from somewhere else?"

"I already do. He's stranding right there." Red reminded casually, sipping on his coffee while Lard Nar's came out his nose. The Vortian swore in his native tongue while the two Irkens laughed.

"That burns, you know."

"You set yourself up for that one." Purple explained.

"You know, when you get used to this and it stops being funny, I think I'm gonna cry a little."

"Is it impossible for you to have a PG-rated conversation?"

"You know, 'Nar, you entirely too uptight."

"And that's coming from Purple, so it's saying something."

"He does have a point."

"When _was_ the last time you got laid, anyway?"

Lard Nar spat out his coffee, blushing furiously, "You know, some people like to keep their private lives _private_ , Red. I know the concept is hard for you to understand, since you're so keen on relaying every salacious detail of _yours_."

"That's got nothing to do with what I asked you." Red sing-songed at the Vortian.

"It's none of your business."

"That long, huh?" Purple asked, taking a bite out of his donut, thanking everything holy that _someone_ had thought to bring them.

"Is that why you're so cantankerous with us?"

"No! I'm _cantankerous_ with you because you conquered my planet and imprisoned my people!"

"Liar."

"What, that's not a legitimate enough reason?!"

"For anyone else here, it is. But you don't hold us responsible for that anymore."

"We've spent a good part of our lives covering up the truth. Bullshit doesn't make it past either of us easily."

He sighed hopelessly. "I need new friends."

"See, told you he liked us."

"…If either of you tell anyone that I find your company remotely tolerable, I'm coming after you in your sleep with harpoon."

"Might not wanna try that."

"And if you do, just make sure you knock first."

Lard Nar crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes seriously.

"Fine, don't give us a warning. But don't come crying to me about how 'traumatized' you are because you interrupted our _private lives_."

The Vortian cringed.

"You know he only talks like this because it annoys you." Purple reminded.

"Way to rain on my parade, killjoy."

"Love you, too, Sweetie."

Lard Nar rolled his eyes.

"Wow, it's been _that_ long?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"He's never gonna let it go. Trust me." Purple explained, "He'll get it out of you sooner or later."

"It's a stupid, intrusive question and this entire conversation is a waste of time."

"Oh, come on, 'Nar. We're _socializing_."

"Sometimes, I think I liked you more when you had a giant laser ready to blow up my ship."

"C'est la vie, I suppose."

"You drew up the original plans for that thing, right?" The violet-eyed Irken asked idly.

"Huh?" The Vortian's confusion at the abrupt topic change was clearly displayed on his face. He would have been lying, however, if he said he wasn't grateful for it.

"The Massive." Purple clarified, "You worked on it."

"No kidding!" Red exclaimed, "That was you?!"

Lard Nar lowered his head in modesty and mumbled in affirmation. "Well, it wasn't _all_ me. All I did was translate the concept into actual engineering."

"I'm impressed."

"He means that seriously. You have no idea how many times I've sat through listening to him ramble on about the engineering of that that thing. …I mean that in the most loving way possible; don't glare at me."

Red grumbled to himself and crossed his arms while Lard Nar watched in amusement. "How is it that the two of you haven't driven each other mad?"

"What do you mean?" Purple asked, looking into his empty coffee cup with a certain disappointment; more concerned with the fact that his beverage had run out than the question Lard Nar had posed.

Red rolled his eyes and sighed, taking the cup from Purple's hand, "I'll get you a refill."

The violet-eyed former Tallest smiled, "Thanks." He turned his attention back to the Vortian, "What were you saying?"

"How long have you two been… together?"

Purple tried to calculate in his head the correct figure. "I really don't remember. Time… never really meant anything. If you wanna do the math yourself, though, it's our career as Tallests minus three days and counting."

The Captain's eyes bulged, completely taken aback. "You're kidding."

"Why would you think that?" Purple asked, genuinely curious, as if there were nothing out-of-the-ordinary about his involvement with his former co-leader.

"You both seem so… happy."

The Irken's expression read 'duh'. "I thought that you're supposed to be in love with someone _because_ they make you happy."

"He's never pissed you off?"

Purple laughed. "Fuck no! Of _course_ he's pissed me off. Sometimes, I swear, that Irken was _born_ just to piss me off. He's _already_ pissed me off like twelve times so far today."

"How does _that_ make you happy?"

Purple sighed reassuringly and patted the Captain's shoulder with an open palm, "You're fishing for advice in the most passive way possible, my friend. Being in love isn't about the candlelight dinners and bouquets of flowers. It's not about the sex or the passion or the thrill. Love is mundane. It's sacrifice and it's a lot of pain. In my opinion, you really love someone when, at the end of the day, in spite of all the redundancy, the mess, and the fighting, you look in their eyes and you can't stop smiling. When you're not just saying words, and you realize that you truly would sacrifice _anything_ for them. When the regularity of it stops feeling like a ball and chain and more like an anchor you'd drift into chaos without; that's when you've found it."

The Vortian just nodded.

"You remember when you hailed us on our private line?"

"Yes."

"You probably didn't think much of it, but early in the conversation I suggested that you kill Red and I in exchange for Tenn's freedom."

"That did strike me as odd. I thought you were trying to pull some kind of trick at the time."

Purple nodded. "You remember what I said, and what happened after?"

Lard Nar thought back, sifting through his memories. "Not specifically, but I remember that it made Red furious. Something about 'assisted suicide'… you said you weren't joking and he flipped."

"That's pretty much it, more or less." The Irken replied, "It _really_ hurt him when I said that. I knew it would, and I said it anyway."

"Well, he had to know you weren't serious."

Purple exhaled, "Thing is, I really _did_ promise him I wouldn't self-destruct."

"What?"

"You didn't know? All Irkens have self-destruct buttons. Incase a mission gets compromised, or… well, let's just say that Irken leaders don't live very long for a reason. It was a long time ago, but… things got real bad, 'Nar. I knew I loved Red, but I really didn't think it was enough anymore. I didn't know if I was still _capable_ of loving someone, maybe I just thought I did, or that I used to, and it had just become empty lust or something. So I decided I was going to self-destruct and left a note for Red. Naturally, he found me before I could go through with it.

It was the worst fight we've ever had. The only reason no one interrupted was because Red had changed the locks on both our doors for a semblance of privacy. I screamed at him so much that I couldn't talk the next day. He was so scared that he basically didn't let me out of his _sight_ for two years. He thinks I don't notice, but I know he still watches me when I leave a room and waits until I come back. It was probably the most terrible thing I've ever put him through, and I taunted him over it."

"… How'd he react, after I hung up?"

The Irken clad in purple robes smiled, "He held me."

Lard Nar's mouth just hung open.

"You're _going_ to hurt the people you love, it's inevitable, and you're going to be hurt, too. That extends exponentially when you're talking about a significant other. But being _in love_ means that even after the worst, your feelings for them haven't changed." The Irken sighed, "I've probably terrified you now. Let me tell you something, though;" he continued seriously, "it's worth it."

The Vortian shook his head, "I suppose I can be a bit more tolerant of your, erm… public affections."

Purple laughed, "While you _do_ have a priceless reaction, Lard Nar, Red's just getting it out of his system. I've asked him to curb it."

"Thank Vort."

"We've never been able to show anything for each other in public before, and he's feeling out his boundaries. He's so amused by the whole thing, I swear, he's like a smeet in a candy store."

A few moments later, Red returned, handing Purple his coffee and a donut, at the sight of which the latter became immediately excited.

"Figured you might want seconds."

Purple kissed his cheek, "You're the best."

"So 'Nar," Red began, "we going to get started?"

With a smile that puzzled Red, Lard Nar nodded. "Yes, that sounds like a good idea." He turned toward the rest of the room, "All right everyone, break's over. Let's get something _done_ today."

* * *

"Okay, I'd like everyone to understand that Red and Purple _will_ be working with us. This is not up for discussion or debate. If this is a problem for you, bitch about it outside my meeting room, or grow the hell up." Lard Nar began.

"I…I just w-want to apologize, publicly, for my behavior earlier. It was… I didn't know… I shouldn't have… I didn't…" The Meekrobian faltered, looking worn and frail and semi-catatonic.

The alien beside Red, whose name he had not learned, but was of the species that consumed 90 percent of the world's pornography, leaned toward him, "…Is that guy gonna be okay?"

The Irken looked at Som Saa, then his partner, and hung his head with a sigh. "No."

"Damn…. What'd you show him?"

"Twelve minutes."

"Twelve minutes of…"

"Dying."

The expression on Red's face made it very clear that there was nothing sarcastic or hyperbolic about his response and the alien, with eyes gaping unconsciously, slowly moved away and finally managed to shake his stare.

"The fact is, we're not just fighting one enemy anymore. We're not up against the Massive, or the Invaders, or anything like that. This isn't about races, or conquest, or imprisonment. All of that exists, yes, but it's simply a barrier around the real threat. I'm going to hand the floor over to Red, who is briefly going to review what you might have missed earlier, and then… er… well,"

"You have no idea how to run one of these, do you?"

Lard Nar looked at the floor, deflated. "I don't have a clue."

Red nodded. "I figured as much. Don't worry. You're doing well, so far."

"It seems so much easier in motion-capture movies."

"It always does." The Irken smiled. "For those of you who need a replay, I'm former Tallest Red, and seated to my left is former Tallest Purple. The title is unnecessary and we'd both appreciate it if you'd refer to us on a first-name basis. In case you failed to pick up on it, the two of us are currently involved with each other, and have been for a _very_ long time; I will not damage your retinas in any way, provided you don't give me a reason to do so. You no doubt saw Lard Nar on TV explaining that he'd killed us. This was staged to ease the suspicion of the Irken authorities, allowing us to successfully fake our deaths and prevent anyone from tracking us. With the aid of _the Resisty_ ,"

"You know, I was thinking, _Pirate Monkeys_ actuallymight not be so bad." Lard Nar interjected.

"Whoo hoo! All right! Score one for the _Pirate Monkeys!_ "

"We'll vote on it later. Moments like this are why we need an agenda." Red sighed, "Anyway, with their help, particularly Sally,"

"She's the alien who looks like a green blob, always droolin' purple stuff. Orange-y hair." Shloonktapooxis clarified.

"Turns out, she's quite good with engineering. I worked with her to come up with an operating system that would remove us from Irk's tracking system, which would send an automatic deactivation message. The only problem was finding a way to account for the lack of evidence. Tenn provided that suggestion. We are currently en route to your underground medical facility on Malterra for personal reasons unrelated to the matter at hand. Plans beyond that have yet to be made, which is why we're here today. Everybody on the same page so far?"

Everyone present exchanged glances and nodded affirmatively.

"Good. Raise your hand if you have a question; I suggest you ask now if it pertains to anything I've just gone over."

A timid appendage went up on the other side of the table.

"Yes?"

"What _exactly_ were you running from?" Several groans became audible.

"Hey, leave Smikka Smikka Smoodoo alone. It might be redundant, but it bears repeating, okay?"

Purple watched his partner with a smile and thought he'd make quite an instructor.

"The Tallest don't have any _real_ power. They choose what type of snacks to keep in stock, which Invader to send where, and things of that nature. Their only freedom is in the pursuit whatever self-indulgences they so choose. They are given instructions when dealing with politics, domestic and abroad. They follow these orders," he explained, "because of this." Red knocked on his chest-plate meaningfully, the armor making a metallic 'clang'. "I'm not going into specifics because, quite honestly, I don't think I can handle it after the explosive first half of our session together. This has been a long day for both my partner and I. I'm not going to subject him to going through it again, and I'm fairly sure it'll drive Som Saa into full-blown catatonia."

The aforementioned Meekrobian twitched violently in his seat.

"I'll put my hopes in the belief that your ability to read context clues is much better in regard to physical situations than interpersonal ones. If you still don't get it, I'm going to ask that you please take someone aside afterward, and have them explain it to you. I would, Smikka Smikka Smoodoo, but," he exhaled, exhaustion clearly written all over his face, "I really think I'll be in the same boat as Som Saa afterward. At any rate, I'll just say that it is a physical impossibility for an Irken to fit these, and neither of us used to look like this."

It took a few moments, but sure enough, realization dawned on the screw-headed creature like a falling piano. He had no idea the extent to which they'd been damaged, but what he could come up with in his mind was excruciating enough. In actuality, he'd been nowhere close to a remote estimate.

"And _that's_ before you ever provoke Them. The people who give you these orders. You never see a face, never catch a name… before you know it, you can't sleep and immediately fear anything in black clothing. These sick, violent, batshit-crazy motherfuckers are running the show, and they're putting on one hell of a spectacular. We don't know _why_ they're bent on universal genocide, but the _why_ doesn't matter right now. We don't have time for revenge or bullshit. We can't afford to waste time, hoping to get lucky. You rely on luck, and you end up dead; or worse. I hope I've expounded enough on what Lard Nar meant earlier, when he opened discussion. We're not _just_ against the Armada anymore. We've got to get _past_ the Armada, and _then_ find the people controlling it. We can't use anaconda tactics right away. It's impossible to cut the head off a snake if you're stabbing in the fucking dark. You'll end up cutting _yourself_ , and once the snake smells blood, you're done for."

"…What's an 'anaconda tactics'?"

Red just looked to Lard Nar desperately. "Where did you _find_ these people?"

"Heh…heh… volunteers?" He offered nervously in response, scratching the back of his head.

"…Out of curiosity, how many of you have military training or experience?"

Of the twelve gathered, five raised their hands, and one of them was Purple.

"I was a frycook." One said, "Does that count?"

Red pressed his palm to his forehead, and cradled it for a moment. "Sure, why not. Okay. I'll have to be more specific, then." He spoke as though he'd like nothing more than to run out the airlock shouting for sweet release. "An 'anaconda' is a type of snake. They're found on lots of planets. Point is, if you cut off the head, the body is useless and the snake dies. Think of it like this: the Tallest, the Armada, Invaders, and Irken Army all do what this group of people tells them. If we get rid of the people giving orders, none of the smaller parts will have orders to carry out. Which means that they can't fight us. How's everybody doing? Still with me?"

More or less, they seemed to be.

"Among the most important things we need to accomplish today is making a thorough list of our assets. Then, we need to come up with _some_ basic outline for an overall plan. Sound good to everyone?"

No one seemed to oppose.

"Does anyone take notes at these things… a secretary of some sort?"

Lard Nar didn't even have to answer. "I actually asked him if _I_ could do that. Spleenk used to do it, so I offered to take the job instead." Purple lied. It wasn't out of sympathy for Lard Nar, or because the disorganized, frantic captain looked like he were stressed to his breaking point. He paid careful attention to his partner, and had picked up on it the second that the smallest trace of hopelessness had entered his voice. All it would take was for yet _another_ something to go wrong, no matter how small, and Red would withdraw completely. Back into his shell, he'd manifest harsh pessimism and completely disregard his own welfare. His words would drip with sarcasm, but not out of humor. Scathing or biting or just mean, for no reason, without provocation. It would last until Purple would call him on it, and they'd argue; the size depending on which words were used and the context of the conversation.

Purple hated fighting with Red. It always left him feeling hollow and empty and sick. He'd feel that way for days on end, until Red would snap him out of it, like he had earlier that day. He hadn't said anything out loud; but they had never really needed words to explain the things that had been most important. Such conversations were spoken in a language of skin against skin. Words could only encompass so much and only went so deep as the understanding of the other party. Sometimes, Purple swore that even if they should lose their ability to speak forever, they'd hardly even notice the silence.

With this in mind, he took hold of his partner's hand under the table so subtly that even Lard Nar, who was the most sensitive to such things, failed to see it.

"I wanted to contribute. And there's no way I trust Spleenk's system of organization."

Red exhaled and relaxed. "I'm glad to hear _something_ around here gets done right."

Shloonktapooxis didn't hesitate to provide a data screen and stylus to the violet-eyed Irken. "See. Already better off than we were a second ago."

The other leaned back in his chair. "Okay everyone. We need a running list of what we've got."

"Let's start with the basics," Purple said, taking over for his partner, "we've got the twelve of us. Red, Shloonktapooxis, and I are all on _this_ ship, under Lard Nar. We've got a crew of maybe forty, and a full stock of robotic drones. Three crewmembers are scientists formerly employed by Irk, one of whom was involved with designing the Massive; and one former Irken Invader. And a supply of malfunctioning SIR units. Which we need to get rid of, by the way."

"You've got an Invader?" Asked the pornography-consuming alien.

Shloonktapooxis nodded enthusiastically. "She used to be assigned to Meekrob, but now she works with us!"

All eyes turned to Som Saa. "Say 'hello' for me…." He replied weakly, breathing in and out of a paper bag.

"Will do!" As if he were oblivious to the other's condition, the first mate grinned and happily wiggled his straw-like antenna.

"And back to the important stuff."

Red and Purple had made an accurate assessment of their resources, and were pleased to learn that they had at their disposal many more Stealth Cruisers than they'd previously guessed. Frankly, they'd have been happy with anything that could go up against a Voot. They stored all their spare equipment on various moons or planets that could not sustain life. It was quite a smart move, because these little rocks were never added to the Universal Database of Knowledge and Stuff. Whoever had officially named it such must have been a _very_ easily amused individual, at best.

"So basically, we've got information, a small fleet, Meekrob's resources, free stamps and packing peanuts?"

"You'd be surprised what can go wrong just by swapping the addresses on two packages." Purple replied, addressing an alien named Vom, who looked like a three-eyed squid on chicken legs, standing about five feet tall.

"Oh shi-" Smikka Smikka Smoodoo clamped his hand over his mouth, but it was too late.

"What did you do?" The crimson-clad former dictator practically _growled_.

"I, uh, well… I may have," he stammered, mumbling, "switched the address on something…."

Red was fairly sure had Purple not been holding his hand again, that he'd have leapt across the table and choked the postal clerk. "Do you _remember_ who it was _supposed_ to go to?"

"…Just that Zim guy. The idiot whose ridiculous transmissions you're always broadcasting."

The Irken wrenched free of his partner's grip and slammed his hands into the table violently. "That 'idiot' is our _last fucking chance_!"

"Calm down!" Purple scolded in a manner comparable to a disapproving mother. He succeeded in getting Red's attention and his expression softened. Laying a hand on his shoulder, he looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "It's late, and it's been one long ass day. Neither of us has been sleeping, and an afternoon nap isn't going to do much; _particularly_ when interrupted by catching up on… other things we've been missing lately. You don't know if he's talking about the same thing you are." Purple turned toward the spooked alien, "Do you know what kind of box it was?"

"…It was really big."

"Big enough to fit a Megadoomer?"

"I suppose it could… what was the name of that Invader you mentioned before?"

"What's Tenn got to do with anything?" Red asked curiously.

"That's it! That's who I switched Zim's address with."

"Thank everything remotely sacred…." Red sighed, "You have no idea the heart attack you just gave me."

"That's what you get for jumping to conclusions."

"Thanks, _mother._ "

"Now _that's_ an Oedipus complex if I ever head one."

"You're sick, you know that?"

"Oh yes, Red. _I'm_ most definitely the lewd and explicit one in our relationship." Purple replied sarcastically.

"As… amusing, I guess, as your little tangents are, I think we ought to get back on track." Lard Nar interrupted.

"You're no fun." Red mumbled under his breath.

"I'm kinda confused," the former military frycook started, "what does this Zim character have to do with anything? If he's incompetent, there doesn't seem to be much good he can do us."

"For one thing, he's the only creature in existence that could cause the caliber of destruction we're going to need. He's also got the best odds of survival; there's not a single thing he _hasn't_ been able to escape from, or find his way out of. I said before that we can't rely on luck, and I meant it; Zim knows how to _make_ his own luck. I'd never dream of putting him in charge of a team of people he's never met because his sense of self-preservation is a little _too_ acute, but he does follow orders and he's not afraid to improvise. If it's something he believes in, Zim will place his mission above _everything_."

Purple picked up where his partner had left off, "Which is another reason we had to at least offer him a place in the resistance and a _real_ mission; something to compensate for sending him into exile and making a laughing stock out of him. It was a selfish thing to do, and we treated him cruelly, which I'm sure comes as no surprise to any of you… but after OID One failed…" his face was blank and eyes were dull, like he had disconnected from the conversation; as if he'd left an empty vessel sitting in his chair and his mind had gone somewhere else entirely.

Where it arrived was his room in the palace back on Irk, where both of them sat on the couch, clinging to each other with violently shaking limbs. They were not without good reason; botching an attempt at universal conquest within five minutes of its official launch was going to make the wrong people very, _very_ angry and they were sure that they had only ever witnessed 'mildly upset'. They wouldn't be able to avoid the punishment that was most certainly going to befall them, and the extent to which they'd suffer this time was going to be directly proportional to how badly they'd failed. They couldn't find words to explain the kind of terror they felt or the overwhelming pressure of hopelessness that seemed to suffocate them. All they could do was tremble and sob and hang onto each other, waiting for the inevitable.

It came with a disturbingly polite knock, which, in time, they answered because they had accepted that there was no escape. They were seized, but neither tried to run. They didn't fight the repeated jabs to the stomach or blows to the face, or the chloroform rags smothered over their mouths.

It didn't matter that the failure hadn't been their fault. They'd done everything in their power to ensure that it would go smoothly. They had been told, however, that their responsibilities extended farther than preparation; they were supposed to use whatever measures necessary to not only anticipate problems, but keep watch for sudden ones. From where they knelt on the floor with their wrists securely bound behind their backs, Red lifted his face to the shadowed man whose voice he had by now come to recognize as belonging to the same man who'd removed his partner's Pak all those years ago.

_"If you want something done right, do it yourself, you fuck."_

The response was a powerful kick to Purple's jaw that knocked the Irken clean off his knees and onto his side. He would've said something, but at his first attempt the pain and panic was too intense to form anything but a scream.

Horror immediately manifested itself on Red's face, _"What the fuck did you do?! Oh shit, Purple…."_

_"Oh dear, it seems his jaw's been dislocated. Let's have a look and see if we can't fix it."_

There was a terrible, loud 'CRACK' as the bone was snapped back into its proper socket, and a sharp painful scream followed by a string of pathetic whimpers.

_"You bastard…"_ Red whispered, seething with hate.

_"Look on the bright side, Red. At least_ you _won't have to worry that he'll say something that_ you'll _have_ your _jaw knocked out for."_ Purple's quiet, plaintive sobbing seemed to catch his attention, _"Aw, I think it's broken. Well, the least I can do is make sure he's taken care of, and that you're there to watch."_

Red didn't like the tone in which the Irken spoke.

_"It's a lengthy and grueling procedure… the whole thing will have to be re-broken and reset, possibly wired shut… I'm not a doctor, so what do I know? He'll come out looking good as new, I'm sure; we've got a wonderful reconstructive surgeon. No trained anesthesiologist, though."_

_"Why do you have to hurt him?! Why won't you punish_ me _for_ my _mistakes?!"_

_"Because it's cuter when he screams."_

Red thrashed, lunging toward the smirking Irken with wild, animalistic rage. It was the first time he had ever caught them off guard. He wasn't at the proper angle to get to his feet, but then again, that wasn't his objective. He didn't have time to _think_ about an objective; he just hurled his body with as much force as he could into the other. He sunk his teeth deep into a leg covered by black cloth, and succeeded in taking a sizeable chunk out of both. Red was only mildly aware of the copper taste in his mouth as he bit down a second time. He felt people pulling at him, and knew his flailing movements could only keep him from their hold for a few moments more. He actually _growled_ and in a fraction of a second, gouged his teeth deeper just as he was pulled back. He'd taken more than a chunk this time; from the amount of blood the leader was gushing and the rate at which his face was turning ashen, Red knew he'd done the damage he wanted and smiled wickedly. He wasn't aware of his ribs breaking, or the furious kicks that were being repeatedly delivered to them. He heard something about the man's femoral artery and he began to laugh, having actually succeeded in _something_ against them. He'd be paying for it later, he was sure, but he knew it'd be personal this time and taken out on him and not Purple.

Purple, who was still whimpering quietly and curled into himself with a broken jaw; who couldn't even yell at his partner for being stupid.

And that had only been the first hour. The rest of that week had been absolutely unreal. It was wrong to hate Zim, but neither of them could help it at the time.

Purple snapped back into the present and looked to Red, but neither of them could find a way to finish his sentence. The two of them had yet to talk about it in private; not even Purple had wanted to make a mention of it. In fact, he didn't speak at all for several days afterward. Red assured himself that it was because of his jaw still feeling sore, even though he knew it was a terrible, cheap rationalization.

_"You blame me for it, don't you?"_

Purple looked up at his partner, startled.

_"It's okay. It was my fault; I know I deserve it. And I know it doesn't mean much in light of… I just wanted to tell you that I love you and I'm sorry."_

Purple sighed, _"I'm not mad, Red. I respect what you did; I don't blame you for anything. Why do you always assume that when shit happens, it's your fault?"_

_"…Because I'm afraid you're going to end up hating me someday."_

_"The day that happens, I want you to aim for the head and shoot me."_

_"Don't say things like that!"_

Purple took the other's hands, _"There would have to be something_ seriously _wrong with me for that to be even a_ remote _possibility. I'd have to be so completely damaged that I wouldn't be_ me _anymore, and I don't want to live like that. I promise that no matter how stupid you act or however angry we might get with each other, I will never be able to hate you."_

_"…It's nice to hear you talk."_ Red replied in a thin voice, his eyes shining.

Purple looked down. _"I'm sorry for waiting so long. I was scared that… with my- that I wouldn't be able to… I didn't know what I'd sound like."_

_"I don't hear a difference."_

_"Can you see one?"_

_"Not at all."_

Purple snapped to attention when he felt Red take hold of his wrist. His confused eyes stared into the sympathetic red ones of his counterpart and found his fingers had been idly playing at his jaw. Once he saw recognition spark across the other Irken's face, he guided his hand downward to rest on the table. He heard the sound of lightly drumming claws, and didn't think either of them could stand much more. It wasn't supposed to have gone like this.

"Zim is a hugely important asset." Red concluded awkwardly, "Anything further for today, or can we call it quits and resume tomorrow?"

Lard Nar was not a particularly brilliant strategist, nor did he have any skill whatsoever in the avenue of improvisation, but every once and again, he'd get something right. "What about the plan you proposed concerning Vort?" He blurted out, "Now might be a good time to give an overview… especially since we've just finished compiling a list of what's available."

Red looked like he might just start screaming for absolutely no reason, and it would not have been a surprise to anyone present if Purple just fell out of his chair and died on the spot. It aroused interest in the group though, who clamored to know more about this proposition.

Red sighed, "It's… I'm not sure that we could actually…" he paused thoughtfully, and scanned the handheld screen in front of his partner. He held it in his hands and reviewed the items and resources they had at their disposal.

Purple rolled his eyes. "Here we go again." He sighed, "All right, let's hear it."

"Huh? Hear what?" Red asked, still distracted.

"This new plan of yours."

Red was momentarily confused, then muttered a brief "dammit" under his breath in reluctant concession.

Purple grinned triumphantly, "Told you."

He grumbled to himself and then sighed before speaking again, "I think that planet Vort could be a hugely significant ally. They have complete and thorough knowledge of virtually every weapon in Irk's military, since they've designed and built all of them, as well as the prototypes and plans for new ones. Maybe they were even forced to work on whatever _They_ plan on using to perform the genocide. Regardless, having Vort on our side would increase our chances exponentially."

"Your logic is sound enough, but I think you've forgotten one small problem."

"What might that be, Smikka Smikka Smoodoo?"

"Vort's _conquered Irken territory_!"

Red and Purple exchanged glances. "No, I had _absolutely_ no idea." Red responded dryly. "We're not thinking up a diplomatic strategy here, people."

"Diplomacy was the god-awful first half of this meeting." Purple said, "From here on out, diplomacy is a Vortian Death Ray. There's no settling things over coffee and donuts. That's why we've got to plan carefully, use our heads, and work as a team."

"ALRIGHT!" Came the enthused shout of Shloonktapooxis, "What'd ya have in mind?"

"Well… I don't know if we can pull it off," he glanced around the table, "no, you know something? We _can_ pull it off." He said, enthusiasm in his voice for the first time in perhaps _years_. "We have the perfect opportunity. Hey, 'Nar… do you have a map of Vort's power grid?"

"Um, yes. Open the folder on Vort, there's a document with blueprints."

Red clicked and searched on the handheld screen and appeared to have found what he was looking for. "Okay, this is good. Irk is set up similarly. The central energy grid is connected to five much smaller power hubs, all equidistant from each other around the planet. We can't just shut down the power grid because the new security system will immediately send the prisons into lockdown, and that won't be much help. The night of the Inauguration Ceremony, I can guarantee that there won't be too many guards on duty. The ones who get stuck working will be watching it on TV. I know Sally can find the frequency for their security feed, and she'd be able to hack it in her sleep."

"And you're _sure_ about that?" Asked Vom, the alien with three eyes, tentacles, and chicken legs.

"She was able to find the frequency of the private, two-way line _I_ installed and haven't used in something like a hundred years. I even scrambled _and_ encoded it. Put something like that in front of her and she'll find the pattern and her brain will run it through every data matrix she's ever glanced at. She can solve things that would take years for a computer in the blink of an eye. She may not be able to hold herself upright for very long, and she might have a bit of a drooling problem, but something like this is child's play for her."

"Fair enough. So what's your plan?"

"Once we figure all that out, we'll doctor the prison camera recordings, and loop them seamlessly and broadcast on their signal. That should buy us enough time to reconfigure the override for the security system, and then shut down the main power grid."

"… How _exactly_ are we going to do this?"

"As much as I hate to agree with our yellow, screw-headed friend, think this is a little over our heads." Lard Nar reluctantly agreed.

"Sally, her three-headed friend whose name can't remember, and myself will do the technical work. We're going to need a two or three person team to actually infiltrate the prison to connect and enable the security override. The safest way to shut down the power grid is by causing the system a horrible, painful overload."

"Huh?"

"When anything run by an artificial brain experiences too much of something, it gets backed up and confused, automatically shutting down and disabling itself from executing commands as a failsafe." Purple explained, "Zim managed to plunge Irk into complete darkness for ten years. If we feed it bad data, it'll cut off the entire planet's power. All the doors unlock, and we evacuate the prisoners."

"They won't be followed, because we'll program the security system to destroy anything with an Irken biosignature that tries to make it through an exit point." Red finished.

"I thought they removed those systems."

"Oh they're still there. Just integrated into a newer program. Which is why if we disable the new features and just invert who it's set to explode, a few of the larger ships should be all that's needed to carry everyone to safety."

"So, how do we get in?"

* * *

"You're _not_ doing this."

"Yes, I _am_."

"Why? What are you trying to prove?"

"Because _someone_ has to, and I'm sick of flailing around helplessly. I can take care of myself, you know. I'm capable of doing things on my own."

"I never said you weren't. I just… I don't think this is the right kind of mission for you."

"Because I won't be able to handle it? Because I don't have _your_ combat skills? Or are you afraid I'll just freeze halfway and fuck up?"

"… Well, it's just… you're not…"

"You know what? Fuck you. I'm tired of feeling like I'm nothing but dead weight around here. You've changed so much since all of this started, I can't even…" he sighed in frustration, "just leave me on Malterra. I'll stay and work in the supply room or something."

"What the hell's gotten into you?!"

"It doesn't matter." He scowled.

"Look, I'm sorry, it's just… it's been a really long day. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

"Why, you think a few hours of sleep will change my decision? We don't have _anything_ to talk about, Lard Nar, and I'm sick of the way you make me feel! We used to be friends. Now I'm just your stupid subordinate. Being Captain has really gone to your head."

"For Vort's sake, Spleenk, what do you want from me?! _I even gave us that stupid fucking name you picked_ and I'm just trying to look out for you, like friends _should_ and you've got a _problem_ with that?!"

"I'll see you at tomorrow's meeting." Spleenk replied, starting down the hall as Lard Nar watched him until he disappeared from view.

"…You wanna get some tea or something?" He heard Purple's voice ask sympathetically as a thin, green hand lightly touched his shoulder.

The Vortian wiped at his eyes vigorously, inhaling sharply and attempting to shake his previous conversation off. "Oh, no, I'm fine, really… just getting a cold, I think, you know how it is."

"Uh huh. In that case, you should definitely have some tea. You'll be on your feet again in no time. Let's go see what we can scrounge up in the mess hall."

"I don't _need_ tea," he mumbled, "I need a bottle pure alcohol."

"I _promise_ that won't end well."

"Why not?"

"For one thing, Som Saa's already filled the puke quota for the day, you'll be hungover at the meting tomorrow, Spleenk will see you hungover at the meeting tomorrow, you'll have another fight, and it'll just keep getting worse." Purple explained as he shuffled the Vortian off to the mess hall.

"Won't Red be worried about you?"

"He's talking technobabble with Sally. _I'll_ be the one dragging _his_ ass to bed. And I don't think he'll mind that I'm helping out a friend."

Lard Nar tried not to look as grateful as he felt, and failed miserably.

"I wouldn't have talked so badly about Spleenk if I knew you had a thing for him. I might have poked fun at you a bit, but I wouldn't have gotten so bent out of shape when he messed up. Except that one time, when Hoverbrain forgot to knock and I freaked out on you. I feel bad about it, but I couldn't help it." He sighed, "You just wanted to be around him so you stuck him on communications, didn't you?"

"It was a bad decision. I wasn't thinking like a captain. I was thinking like a sappy, romantic fool."

Purple opened several various cabinets before he finally found something almost but not quite entirely unlike tea. "Hm. It'll have to do." He briefly reminisced about what real tea tasted like, the expensive, imported, kind that he used to have access to because he simply desired it. He finished brewing the hot beverage and set a cup in front of Lard Nar before taking a seat himself. "It's perfectly fine to think like a sappy, romantic fool sometimes. You don't have to be one or the other. You saw how intense Red gets when he has some sort of goal. He knew that unless we could prove to Som Saa that we weren't lying, nobody would take us seriously. He vehemently disagreed with me when I reasoned with him over which one of us should provide the playback. Mine was just more appropriate concerning the topic, and I reminded him that it wasn't his job to protect me all the time and I could stand to take my share of hits for him. He didn't like it at all, but he had to look at it objectively and decide which course would deliver the desired result. It's okay to want someone you care for to be safe. It's natural to want to take every possible precaution to protect them. But you've got to remember that they care about you, too."

"Fat chance of that. He probably hates me now."

"He doesn't hate you. None of this would have made him upset if that were the case."

"He told me he hates the way I make him feel. I think that says everything I needed to know."

Purple sighed. "It's because you try to control him, but you don't realize you're doing it. He probably mistakes it for arrogance because I'm guessing you haven't told him anything."

Lard Nar just sighed and held his head in his hands.

"So what's holding you back?"

"I don't know."

"Liar. You know exactly what it is because you never look that desperate unless you're beating yourself up over something minute and idiotic."

The Captain sighed and stared at his reflection in the shiny mess hall table. "It's… it all just seems so overwhelmingly pointless." He said, "Going through dizzying spin cycles of pain and getting hurt again and again and still pursuing it… like _this_ time, maybe it'll be better, it'll be different. And we go through all this for what? A few redeemable moments when things didn't suck so bad? A thousand moments of pain for one of pleasure? They don't balance. It's all chemical reactions in your brain to convince a species to perpetuate itself and produce further generations of offspring. Why bother feeling so much for one person that will ultimately disappoint you?"

"How do you know they'll disappoint you?"

"Because even if they don't leave… well, everyone dies, someday."

"I think there's a difference between natural death and the decision to leave."

"Either way, _somebody's_ life stops."

Purple reflected on Lard Nar's words.

"You can't tell me I'm not right."

"I really think you should talk to Spleenk. Or at least try to let him know you only mean to protect him, and you're sorry if he took it the wrong way. Make sure he knows that you don't want to lose him."

"Did you not hear what I just said?"

"'Nar, if you really felt that way, we wouldn't be sitting here right now and you wouldn't have had time to come up with that well-rehearsed excuse. I'm not telling you to march into his room and ask him on one knee to be your mate for life. I'm humbly suggesting as a friend fairly well-versed in the area to have a simple talk with him to set things right again."

"He thinks I hate him."

"So go change that. Small steps, 'Nar."

He sighed, hands over his face, "There's no point. I've really fucked things up this time."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

"I've been pushing him away so much… this was the icing on the cake, Purple. If he ever did care about me, he sure as hell doesn't now."

"All right, 'Nar, you're my friend, so I'll be honest. I'm getting bored with all the self pity. You can sit in the corner and write angsty poetry or you can _do_ something about it. I don't envy your situation, because I know exactly how it feels. Granted, the magnitude of fucked-up-ness was much greater, but sort of the same thing. Feeling like you messed up so badly you don't deserve to be forgiven and you've lost the only thing that meant a damn to you."

"What'd _you_ do?"

"You don't want to know."

"Bullshit. You don't want to _tell me_."

"Gee, you figured it out."

"Here I am, spilling my guts. I want to see some of yours."

"I think I've been publicly eviscerated enough times for one day."

"I think _that's_ a little overdramatic. Your relationship's so perfect it's _sickening._ Not only are you both _willing_ to take a bullet for each other, you've literally taken everything _but_!"

"I'm just trying to help you, you son of a bitch! You _really_ want to see what my insides look like?! He was just trying to _be there_ for me, to offer me some goddamned _comfort_ , and I took advantage of him. He held my hand and said he loved me; he kissed me where I was broken and told me I was _perfect_ , and I wanted him to hurt me. I scratched him until he bled and bit until he bruised. Neither of us felt a goddamn thing. We fucked each other senseless, and I knew he wanted to stop. He kept trying to tell me and I kept pushing him further, and that was our first time. Was it as sweet as you thought it'd be, 'Nar?"

The Vortian couldn't string together a coherent response as his brain was still trying to process this new information.

He knew he shouldn't have snapped, but fuck, it had been _too long_ a fucking _day_. "I regret that more than anything. I've killed hundreds of people. Ordered the deaths of even more. Destroyed worlds. And what I regret the most was what I did to him that night. It took so long to rebuild things between us. I remember how happy I was the day I held his hand and he didn't flinch. When he started holding mine because he wanted to and not because I asked. When I could put an arm around him and he wouldn't move away. When he finally stopped shaking every time I would kiss him. And the worst part of it all is that he _still_ holds himself responsible. _He_ still feels guilty because he thinks he violated me. Shit like that is something you don't forgive yourself for. If Red and I could work through _that_ … there's no excuse for why you can't apologize to Spleenk and give things a shot. Like I told Red, smeet steps."

"I'm sorry… for making you talk about that."

"Normally, I'd have said something mean and walked away. I'm just really high-strung tonight."

"I'm high-strung all the time."

"You might want to work on that."

"I'll give it a try."

"Good. I'll see you at the meeting tomorrow."

"Hey, Purple!" He called to the Irken in the doorway who stopped and looked back at him, "Thanks a lot. I… I mean it."

"It's what we're supposed to do, right?"

Lard Nar smiled, "Right."

Purple found Red doing exactly what he'd predicted: sitting around talking technobabble with Sally.

"Hey, Red, just wanted to let you know I'm going to bed, okay?"

Red studied his partner a moment, "Wait a second, I'll come with you, I was just finishing up."

Purple wasn't making much of an effort to hide that something was wrong. Red wondered why, but he hoped Purple would tell him that once they got settled for the night. He pulled Purple close to him and pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck.

"Thank you."

"Um… you're welcome, but… I didn't do anything."

"I mean, thanks for sticking things out with me."

"Pur, you're making less sense than usual."

"Ha-freaking-ha." He responded, "I finally realized how much you love me… and I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to _say_ anything. Just keep being you."

"Sounds fair."

"Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay. Goodnight, Red. I love you."

"I love you too, Pur."

"I know."

Red smiled contentedly. "It's about goddamned time."

* * *

"This had better be important. The inauguration ceremony needs to be _flawless_ after the mess those two… ungrateful, disgusting traitors made. The entire Empire is on edge, and if so much as a _lighting cue_ goes wrong, we'll end up with a full-fledged riot on our hands."

"I'm sorry, Sir," the Irken said in a manner reminiscent of a frightened puppy, "but the message from the Control Brains said to notify Head of Security if anything suspicious happens."

"And…?"

"Something suspicious happened, Sir."

The Head of Security rolled his eyes and tried not to smack the Communications Drone in front of him. He needed to make sure things went accordingly this evening. He _really_ didn't want to enforce a planet-wide lockdown to minimize riot-related damages. "Are you going to stare at me until the riots start, or are you going to explain what was so suspicious that it required that I be dragged away from my position?"

"Oh, yes, um… well, you see, I was monitoring the Control Brains and while sorting through the 'deactivation data', I noticed a reported deactivation of a former Invader."

The Head of Security grunted, "Invaders, unfortunately, have the misfortune of dying on the job most of the time. I don't see the problem."

"Yeah, but this Invader wasn't exactly an Invader… he was re-encoded as a Food Service Drone and banished to Foodcortia after he,"

"Zim? _Invader_ _Zim_ was _deactivated_?" Wide-eyed and slack-jawed, the Head of Security was positively shocked.

The Information Drone nodded. "His deactivation signal came from Earth a few hours ago."

"That's great!"

"You don't think it's odd?"

"Odd? That terrible little Irken was bound to blow himself up for good _eventually_."

"You don't think it's weird that the former… you know… were deactivated by that – what do they go by again?"

A hearty laugh, "The 'Resisty'." He snorted, "Is that a stupid name, or what?"

The Information Drone couldn't stifle his laughter.

"All right, what's your name, Communications Drone?"

"Viir."

"Okay, Viir. If this is true, it's probably news the Empire needs right now. We'll send one of ours to investigate. See if you can pull the location of the Pak before it was disconnected. That ought to give our guy some place to look. I'll have him ready to go as soon as the ceremony's over. You wanna come help me out with it?"

"The inauguration ceremony? Sir, that's an honor, I'm just a Communications Drone, I couldn't, I'm not worthy,"

"A damn tea-party is what it is. But it's tradition and Irkens want tradition, and right now, we do what we can to make 'em happy and comfortable. I hope these two know what they're doing."

"The new Tallests? Why wouldn't they know what to do? They're the tallest in the Empire! Everybody knows that the Tallest have the answer to _everything_."

The Head of Security sighed.

"Are you worried that Almighty Tallest Phthalo and Cyanine will do what… you know," he whispered, "the old ones did?"

"We're not supposed to talk about that. Or… 'the old ones', for that matter."

"Yeah... you're right."

"I don't think we need to worry too much, Viir. I've heard they came up with a whole new protection policy. I'm more worried about Irkens accepting them as their new leaders. One of 'em gets an idea and before you know it, you've got a riot on your hands."

The Communications Drone cocked his head to the side, "Sir, what's a 'riot'?"

"A small uprising. A group of people who get together with torches and pitchforks, throw televisions, and break windows, yellin' about the government stealin' their goldfish or somethin' that's got 'em all ticked off."

Viir looked confused. "Has there ever _been_ an Irken riot?"

"No," He sighed, "thankfully, Irk has a great system going; keeps everybody in line, you know? That's why we're so successful. Obedience."

"So why would a riot break out all of a sudden?"

"There are some defective Irkens," he explained in a didactic manner, "who aren't as… _committed_ to the Empire as you and I, Viir. They'll believe groups like the _Resisty_ , or even _defend_ … certain people we're not talking about because that would break the rules."

Large, shocked dark pink eyes stared at the taller Irken. "But… but _why?_ "

A shrug. "Couldn't tell you. My assumption is they're simply defective."

A silent nod was the Communication Drone's response.

"Come now, pull up those coordinates and meet me in the Great Hall. I'm going to find someone to send after Zim. You can help me make sure we don't have a riot tonight."

A huge grin spread over the Drone's face as he turned to his computer and the Head of Security disappeared.

* * *

**-Endnotes-**

The meeting was originally supposed to be about five to seven pages at the most, but as I started writing it, I realized that it'd be insane to believe that the group would just say "hakuna matata" and welcome the Tallest with open arms. Even Lard Nar's crew keeps a fair distance, with the exception of Shloonktapooxis and Lard Nar, himself.

Also, my Chemistry knowledge is limited, best. I researched as thoroughly as I could but I'm not sure of how right I am in respect to pH scales. Biology is much more my area of understanding. I _do_ know the stuff about sulfuric acid and water is right though. I try to be as accurate as I can most of the time.

**Malterra** literally means "bad terrain" if you break it down.

**Vom** was born from really funny image in my head.

I couldn't come up with another way to phrase **"anaconda tactics"** so I used what I call a writer's 'because-I-said-so' card. My theory is that since they all share a collective database (a really advanced Internet, or for any Browncoats out there, something akin to the Cortex), they'd have some kind of general knowledge. I hate to do the easy thing, but the chapter had involved _so much explaining_ that even I was starting to feel like I needed a notebook.

**-Allusions & References-**

**The Achelous** … the name of the river from the myth of Niobe that she was said to have cried in the wake of the murder of her seven (I think) sons until her grief consumed her and she turned to stone.

The **scoundrel bit** … was a small reference to _The Empire Strikes Back_

**Som** **Saa** … is a Thai citrus fruit, the peel of which is used in mee krob (…according to Mr. and Mrs. Wikipedia when you search for mee krob)

The **pornography-consuming alien** … is the creature Zim complains to in _The Frycook What Came From All That Space_ , who Jhonen said in the commentary is of such a species.

**Sally** … appears in _Backseat Drivers_ and _Frycook_ , but was never given a name.

**"You rely on luck and you end up dead"** … is a direct quote from _Firefly_ (which everyone should see, if they already haven't).

**Horrible, painful overload** … was a reference to the would-have-been episode, _The Trial,_ in which Zim causes what the Control Brains officially refer to as "Horrible, Painful Overload Day", plunging Irk into darkness two separate times, for five years each.

**A liquid almost but not entirely quite unlike tea** … comes from _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_

The bit about **the government stealing people's goldfish** … is an obscure homage to the _Animaniacs_ episode, _"Hot, Bothered, and Bedeviled"_ , in which the Warner siblings take a wrong turn in an attempt to get to Six Flags, inadvertently ending up in Hell. As one in a series of failed torture methods, Satan tries to sentence them to an eternity of listening to whiny protest songs from the 60s. I still find the generic hippie song incredibly entertaining: _Oh I hate the government/ More than you hate me/ The government stole my goldfish/ And unplugged my TV_.

Reviews really do mean a lot to me, so if you've got the time, let me know how I'm doing! Flames will be laughed at, as per usual.


	5. Chapter 5

**\- 5 -**

There was a well-known saying in regard to the best laid plans of mice and men on a certain insignificant little planet called Earth, which, significantly enough, was where a former Irken Invader-turned-Food Service Drone had been banished. This well-known phrase had never graced the auditory receptors of said being, and therefore, remained unknown to the rest of the universe.

It would've come in handy, though, considering the way that things had been going. Zim had lost track of time altogether but he didn't seem the least bit perturbed by it. What point was there in measuring time if you didn't know what you were waiting for? Where do you start when you don't know where you're supposed to finish?

He was a mess.

With nothing else to do, Zim sat and waited while the pre-Inauguration party played on the main computer's monitor in the background of his mind.

* * *

Red felt that something was amiss, and he could not, for the life of him, explain what it was. Logical arguments offered no reassurance. It was a risky operation, but no matter how much scrutiny it underwent, it still appeared virtually seamless. That was probably the factor that worried him the most. Not being able to see the "down side" of something usually meant it was a long fall to the bottom.

A murmur of casual conversation played in the background. Inane, idle prater to indulge in while your eyes never really stay settled on any one thing for longer than a fleeting second. It's the type of verbal exchange in which you engage yourself simply to pass time, when words become sounds and language loses its meaning.

Red was never one for that sort of thing. Sure, if someone tried to strike up a conversation in the past, he'd take the opportunity to make them regret it whether through pure irritation or arrogance. Purple had been even less responsive when it came to talking for the sake of talk, and it would be a very rare occasion if he didn't conjure the most menacing glare he was capable of, were someone careless enough to approach him.

Ignoring the hum of indistinct voices, Red forced them to the back of his thoughts and took a calculating glance around the room. This, essentially, was it. The last dress rehearsal without a live audience. Unfortunately, their situation didn't allow much room for practice and left even less of a margin for error. He just kept quietly hoping that the chandelier's rope wouldn't snap and crush the critics.

"Eat."

He was just as much startled by Purple's sudden appearance as he was by the plate of nachos the aforementioned Irken set in front of him.

"You haven't eaten anything today."

"I'm fine, I'm just stressed."

"You know what the definition of 'insanity' is, Red?"

"This idea?"

"Aren't you just a regular ball of sunshine? Wrong answer, by the way."

He sighed, "Fine. What is it?"

"Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result."

Red's expression indicated that Purple wasn't making any sort of coherent sense. "What are you talking about?"

"You're _still_ as bad a liar today as you were the day I met you, and you _still_ keep trying."

"What can I say; I'm a persistent son of a bitch."

"Stubborn fuck."

He couldn't help the smile that broke his attempt at a straight, serious face. "Indeed I am. Still love me?"

"Like you said, it's a strict exchange policy. I'm stuck."

"Good." Red's intentions of kissing his partner were abruptly halted by a nacho and a very stern looking Purple.

"Not until you eat something."

Realizing he was serious, Red grumbled as he turned his attention to his food, and tried to not to think.

When the door clicked shut and the sound of hushing took the place of pointless conversation, he exhaled in an effort to collect himself. He hadn't expected to feel this nervous. Then again, most things in life are always more simply in theory than practice.

"All right, everybody. I know we've gone through this before, but we can't afford the risk of slipping up. There's entirely too much at stake. Now, you all know your parts in this, but it's just as important for you to understand everyone else's. Knowing where everyone's supposed to be at any given moment is crucial, in the event that something goes wrong. Now that I've told you all to suck it up and pay attention because I'm your captain and I don't care _how_ bored you are, we're going to let Red talk us through this operation."

He felt the eyes of everyone present locking on him, and he exhaled deeply. "I'm not going to lie to any of you. This is dangerous. Some of you are at a higher risk than others, but we're doing everything we can to reduce it as much as possible. Sally's already hijacked the security video feeds, and we've got enough footage to broadcast. We're going to have a _very_ limited window of time to make this happen, so keep that in mind. A three-person team will actually infiltrate the main prison. The fewer the number of people in a dangerous area means fewer potential casualties. The security system for the central prison sets the parameters for the others. Since _we're_ already controlling all incoming frequencies, we'll be able to land our ships at a fair distance from the prison without being noticed. _Don't_ land within visual range of the prison you're assigned to. I'm not going to chance blowing our cover. No one breaches the line of sight until we've received word from the inside that it's clear to do so."

"If they don't know we're even there, then what's the point? Wouldn't it be faster and safer to just land as close as we can?" Another ship's captain asked.

"We're going to take every precaution available. We've got five ships, which should be more than enough to evacuate everyone. In order to do that, we've got to reprogram the security system. A bunch of us worked out how to bypass and reconfigure it without disrupting anything. Tenn, Shloonktapooxis, and Lard Nar will be doing that."

Purple immediately stepped in before an angry Spleenk could get a word out. "It's nothing against you, Spleenk. I'm not sure _who_ thought they had the authority to tell you that anyone's position was voluntary. Tenn's going because she can move around the prison unnoticed, and she can easily get where she's needed by impersonating a janitorial drone. Shloonktapooxis is the only one of us who can easily be mistaken for a beverage, no offense,"

"None taken!"

"So hiding himself won't be a problem. We didn't want to send 'Nar in, because he _is_ the captain, and I have to admit, he's slowly growing on me. But he's escaped from this prison before, and knows the layout pretty well. It kinda helps that he's obviously a Vortian, and we need someone who can blend in running point. You'll have your turn eventually. And if you're curious, Lard Nar has made several appeals on your behalf. I'm sorry, but this is a matter of practicality, not politics."

Spleenk, unable to argue, slumped in his seat.

"Once the system's reversed, we start getting people out. That means sending in our two-person teams to evacuate the prisoners. Once we get confirmation that everyone's accounted for, Tenn is going to disconnect the override and radio us as soon as she's clear of the door. That's when we cut the power to the prisons, sealing the guards inside and giving us time to rendezvous."

"You know, it doesn't sound so bad."

Red could hardly contain his surprise when Smikka Smikka Smoodoo spoke.

"I was confused at first, but it's really just a matter of walking in and running out. I think this is a good idea."

Red leaned toward his partner and whispered, "Should I feel good that we've finally sold him on this, or apprehensive because that's _got_ to be one of the signs of the apocalypse?"

"I don't think there's enough fire to call it an apocalypse yet."

"So you need fire to have an apocalypse now?"

"Raging fire is a basic staple of any apocalypse worth having."

"And what do you base that on?"

"All the cool ones."

"…There comes a point in our conversations where logic completely flies out the window."

"Which is why you'll never win an argument."

Red shook his head, looking toward the group. "If anyone has questions, comments… anything, now would be the time to bring it up."

* * *

"All you've got to do is smile and wave. Read the speech we've prepared for you, nod reassuringly, and tell them it's all going to be just fine." The words dripped with a certain sadism, spoken in a saccharine, didactic tone.

"But I, I can't just… this i-is… oh god," he winced, out of something _other_ than pain for the first time among present company.

" _God_?" The other laughed darkly, "God is _dead_. 'God' is little more than an _expression_ , incase you haven't noticed, _my Tallest_."

The features of the tall Irken dressed in deep, brilliant blue robes twisted painfully for a moment as he went gray and sick, eyes falling to stare at the floor.

"Up until a few weeks ago, as far as you were concerned, you served those poor, mindless, sons-of-bitches as gods. You _worshipped_ them. You'd have given everything just to lick their boots. Don't be ashamed; it's the dream of every Irken in the Empire. You could hold a death match for the position of Launderer to the Tallest, and people would tear each other to pieces just for the chance to touch your filth. So really, that kind of makes _you_ like a god to them."

"What are _you_ then?"

"Who, _me_?" That same, not-quite-right chuckle, "It'd be hardly fair to give me _all_ the credit. What do you think I am? Some criminal mastermind? An evil genius? I'm flattered, really, but it's much simpler than that. Just think of us as _your_ gods. Do as you're told, _let our will be done,_ so to speak, and you're free to do as you please. Think of yourselves as messengers of the divine."

" _You people_ ," seethed the other tall Irken, who had been keeping silent, "are _not_ god."

A crooked grin became visible as the shadow cast by his hood shifted when he cocked his head to one side in response. "You're right, Cyanine. To even regard us as gods would be a _terrible_ misunderstanding." Stepping close enough to lean his head in between the shoulders of the two tall, restrained Irkens, he spoke with a smile in his voice, "Gods have the capacity for _mercy_." He withdrew, face still obscure but his smile still visible in the dimly lit room, " _We_ are what controls your fate. Do you understand the fundamental difference?"

Their silence was all the answer that was necessary.

"Good, you two catch on quick. Unless you want to experience that difference first hand, you'll be giving that speech at the ceremony tonight."

"I can't, I _won't_ do it… this is _wrong_!"

"Oh yes, you will." He smiled. "Feel free to protest otherwise, though. It's been a long time since we've had fresh blood around here, and we'd just come up with a whole list of new, creative… _persuasion_ _tactics_." He placed a heavy emphasis on the last two words, his grin growing wider as he spoke them. "You know, Phthalo, you've got quite the mouth on you. Almost reminds of Red, just more subdued with a vocabulary consisting of a word other than ' _fuck'_. Wretched little shit just didn't know how to keep his mouth shut. Though he _did_ provide endless amounts of fun. Watching that boy break _never_ got old, and when Purple screamed, he really _screamed_. Red would always try and hold back, but that partner of his, he'd go until his vocal cords practically ruptured. Come to think of it, I think they actually did a few times. It's a pity, really. We had such a lovely demise planned out for both of them, it's such a shame I'll never see it in action."

"I don't understand… why… _why_ are you doing this?" Any traces of confidence were gone, leaving nothing but desperation behind.

" _This_ is a very general term. I'm afraid you'll have to be a bit more specific."

"All of this, everything, I don't know…."

"How and why are not necessary to ensure your survival. All you need to do, if you've got half a brain when you pool your resources, is what you're told. That's all we ask. One tiny condition, called on every now and then, and everything else is yours."

"All we've got to do is lie, steal, cheat, and murder, right?" said the other, relatively withdrawn Tallest.

"You've been groomed for this all your lives, Cyanine." He answered. "This happens with nearly _everyone_ in your position, and I can't quite wrap my head around the hypocrisy. Invaders, which both you were just some weeks ago, _lie_ in order in order to _steal_ information and _cheat_ their way into a particular planet's indigenous people, and then _murder_ them for control. Elite soldiers do the same. What about your job description has changed? I'm asking honestly, because this is something I find myself unable to comprehend."

"We've never had a _choice_." Said Phthalo, hating that he couldn't find a single hole in the dark Irken's logic.

A very serious expression settled over the cloaked figure's lips, and for the first time they were both thankful that the rest of his face was hidden from view. "I'm sorry… were you under the impression I'm giving you a _choice_?"

* * *

Red eyes stared at the computer screen with a completely blank expression. Having already gone through several thousand checks to see that everything was in order, and analyzed all possible outcomes from every angle he could think of, there was nothing to do but wait until it was time to break the planet's atmosphere.

"Hey you." Purple collapsed into the seat beside him with a sigh, breaking his partner's staring contest with the computer. "You look about as chipper as a funeral."

"I'm hoping to prevent having to attend any of those in the near future."

Purple sighed. "I know how much you'd rather be putting _yourself_ at risk, which as a crewmember I find very admirable but as someone personally invested in your survival, I think is very stupid. I've also known you long enough to accept that's just how you are and I can't do anything about it. I know you want to be playing 'action hero' much more than 'tech guy number 3'."

"I don't want to be a hero. I don't think it's possible to get back to _neutral_ , if I'm lucky enough to redeem myself beyond 'bad guy'. I just…. This plan… it doesn't feel right."

"And you think if you had some kind of direct control over the situation, it would make you feel more at ease?"

"I don't know. You and me… we've got experience with this sort of thing. I know Tenn's good, and I know that Shloonktapooxis and Lard Nar are capable too, but I'd just feel better if it were us."

"So would I. But you know that going in ourselves wouldn't do a damn thing to increase the odds."

"I really hope that was a joke, because otherwise, it means you've completely lost your mind."

"For someone so overly-logical, you have a knack for missing the blatantly obvious."

He sighed heavily, "I don't want to fight."

"I was just _teasing_ you."

"I'm sorry… this whole thing is just way more pressure than I expected."

"I understand that. Just because I'm not all that much involved in it doesn't mean I'm not as worried as you are."

"I just wish I knew if this was a good idea."

"It _is_ a good idea. Whether it'll work or not is yet to be determined, but it ought to. We've got good people who can handle themselves."

"… If I convinced one of them to trade jobs with me, would you let me go?"

"I know what's going through your head right now. You know it's not my decision. It's not a decision at all. Having one or both of us on the ground would be a disaster. The whole operation would be pretty useless."

"How do you know we'd be recognized?"

"I'm not worried about our cover, Red. That would be the least of our problems."

"What _is_ the problem, then?"

Purple cocked his head to one side. "How fast do you think you can run these days?"

"…I wasn't thinking about that."

"When I told Spleenk that our selections were based on practicality, I meant it. Until we have a full range of motion and the ability to stand for more than an hour at a time, we're only dead weight out there. This unfortunately makes _me_ particularly useless under current circumstances."

"You're _not_ useless."

"It's not something you need to sugar-coat, and I'm not saying it out of self-deprecation. Facts are facts and I may not like them, but I accept them. _You've_ at least got skills to make use of. You know the technical stuff wasn't one of my strengths. I can improvise when the situation calls for it, think fast on my feet, and I was always better in combat than anything. I can't exactly use those talents at the moment, so I can't contribute much to this. I don't necessarily like it, but I _accept_ it."

"You're not very subtle, Pur."

"Wasn't trying to be." He said, "All we can do is what we're capable of. For you, that means working the technical aspects and overseeing progress right now. That might change later on, but until it does, this is the best you can do and it's not falling short of anything. You're always trying to take everything on by yourself. I respect the theory behind it, but you've got to realize that some things are bigger than you are. Bigger than _both_ of us. Isn't that why we're here?"

"By doing this, I'm putting _everyone_ in harm's way. It just feels so selfish."

Purple offered a questioning glance, "This isn't just _your_ fight. You know that, don't you?"

Red sighed in exasperation, "Mine, _ours_ , whatever. It's semantics."

"No, Sweetie, it's not." The other Irken replied seriously. "This is _everyone's_ fight. Every single creature in the universe is at risk. We're all fighting against the same thing, all for the same basic principle. Everyone has their own particular _reason,_ but it stems from the same thing."

"And what do you think that might be?"

"Doesn't matter for whom or what, whether it's a home planet, freedom, a friend, family, or mate; we're all fighting because we don't want to lose something we love. Or maybe we're fighting because we've _already_ lost that something. The specifics aren't what matter. I've watched you do this our whole lives."

"Do what?"

"Personalize everything. Blame yourself. You haven't been the only one who's suffered because of _Them._ Everyone here has. The two of us have unarguably suffered much _more directly_ , but Red, you've got to stop thinking that it's all been your fault. I'm not going to stand by and watch you destroy yourself."

"…I don't want to have this conversation right now."

"I didn't mean to upset you," he said, laying a hand on Red's shoulder, "I just wanted you to know that I see how much of yourself you're putting into this, and I'm proud of you for making the most out of what options are available. I'm also telling you to lighten up, because I'm not leaving you, ever."

"That damn exchange policy again, eh?"

"Yup." Purple nodded.

"What if... suppose you found the receipt."

"Pfft. Impossible."

"Why's that?" He asked, with his face in a clear display of confusion.

"I threw it in the trash. It's long been incinerated."

"Are you sure that was a good decision?"

"I was never more certain of anything in my life."

"How could you know that it'd turn out to be what you wanted?"

"I had my eye on it for a long time."

"Why'd you wait so long for it?"

Purple sighed, "I wanted to wait for the right time to make my investment."

"I'd hardly call _that_ the right time. Could I have picked a _worse_ moment tell you how I felt?"

"It was a _perfect_ time."

Red did not look convinced. "If you didn't look so serious, I'd laugh."

"There's no 'right time' for anything. It's all just time, and what makes it good or bad depends entirely on how you perceive the circumstances. That day was without question, one of the worst days of my life. It was also one of the best days of my life. Probably the most important."

"Please explain to me what made that day anything but agony."

"It was the first time you told me you loved me."

"I felt like an idiot."

"You can't imagine how happy it made me."

Purple was, and always would be an enigma to Red. He admired and respected him, but he remained an enigma nonetheless. It felt somewhat exhilarating sometimes; when Purple would say things from what seemed like out of nowhere, but Red would understand even though he could never articulate exactly what his partner meant.

He smiled instead. "I'm glad it did."

"So what about you? What would you do if you found your metaphorical receipt?"

Red looked overly-pensive, "Perhaps take up decoupage."

Purple laughed. "That's almost as entertaining an image as you taking up needlepoint."

"Why? I'm sure I could do it."

"Oh no, of course you could, Sweetie, it's not that," he couldn't suppress the fit of giggles that interrupted him, mid-sentence, "it's just that the idea… the image of you decoupage-ing _anything_ is hilarious."

"I don't see the humor."

"You think it's just me?"

Red nodded.

"Well, let's find out. 'Nar! Hey, Lard Nar! Yes, you! Come here for a second!" Purple called across the main deck.

Lard Nar hopped out of his seat and approached the two Irkens sitting at the communication panel. "Yes?"

"We have a question for you."

" _He_ has a question. I find all this idiotic."

"He's just cranky. What do you think of Red taking up decoupage as a hobby?"

A beat of silence followed Purple's question, immediately followed by a fit of laughter.

"I don't see what amuses you people so much." Red crossed his arms and grumbled. "I ought to do it just out of spite now."

Purple and Lard Nar exchanged glances and lost their composure entirely.

Red let them laugh until he grew impatient and annoyed and decided to give both of them a small dose of their own medicine, in his own way. In a single, quick movement, Red had pulled his partner into an unexpected and particularly sensual kiss. With one hand holding the back of Purple's head and the other toying with his antennae, he hadn't given the other the time to feel surprised.

When Purple's laughter stopped abruptly, Lard Nar had looked to see what happened, and after doing so, he really wished he hadn't. He'd had the misfortune of inadvertently walking in on the two of them kissing before, and it had been unpleasant enough. He wasn't sure _how_ Red had managed to completely seduce Purple in the space of three seconds, but determined that it might be useful information and worth asking about when he had the chance… and the ability to get the image in front of him out of his head. Purple had seemed quite contentious about keeping their PDA to a minimum. That notion of restraint had been totally thrown away now, to the extent where Lard Nar was about to ask them to please, dear Vort, take it somewhere else. Before he'd opened his mouth to utter a sound, Red just stopped, as if he'd grown bored and simply resumed his focus on the monitor in front of him.

Once Purple blinked away the dazed expression in his eyes, a scowl settled over his features and, attempting to salvage some shred of dignity after participating in such a display, made a hasty exit. Red grinned to himself silently and began running another system sweep.

"Despite having been completely and irreparably scarred for life… I'm somehow disturbingly impressed." The horrified, gaping look on Lard Nar's face made Red grin in a way that made the former want to run for the hills.

"If you think _that_ was impressive, you ought to see me actually _try_."

Satisfied with successfully making Lard Nar want to tear out his eyes, Red left the Captain standing at a very empty communications panel.

"…Hey."

Lard Nar jumped several feet and screamed in terror.

Spleenk recoiled from the Vortian's unexpected response.

"Oh, sorry… I didn't see you there, and well – erm, you just caught me by surprise, is all." Lard Nar explained, breathing heavily with a hand to his chest, feeling more than just a bit mortified.

"Yeah, uhh… you didn't look so good." Spleenk said, scratching at the back of his head nervously. "Is, uh, are you ok now?"

"Who, me? Yes, yeah, I'm fine… I uh… I may need therapy," he cringed, "a _shitload_ of therapy, but I'm fine. I think."

"Maybe you should sit… can't have you going out into the field all woozy like that." Spleenk offered Lard Nar a chair, and once determining that it had come from Red's station, he awkwardly allowed himself to sit down. "Isn't someone supposed to be at this station? Weren't Red and Purple here a little while ago?"

"Ugh, don't remind me."

"What happened, Boss?"

Lard Nar's eyes leveled with the alien sitting opposite him. "Don't call me 'boss'."

"Sir?"

"You know you don't have to talk like that to me."

"Why shouldn't I?

"Well, because you're my friend, erm, and I… are you still mad at me?" He asked, looking at the floor with his forehead against his palm.

He sighed. "No. No, I'm not mad at you."

"What is it then?"

"I just… it's like…" the four-armed creature struggled for words, "you know, like ….rrrrargghhh." He said, the last sound emphasized by the movements made by his tense, clenched hands.

"Frustrating?" Lard Nar offered, hiding his amusement.

Spleenk's hands relaxed. "Yes. Exactly. It's frustrating."

The Captain sighed, "It's okay. I _haven't_ been there for you lately and I've been even worse at explaining myself. I just… well, I just don't want to see you get hurt, so I've been taking all the steps I can to keep you safe… but by doing that, I've put a strain on our friendship without realizing it. I'm sorry."

"It's all right… I shouldn't have gotten so pissed off. It's just… sometimes, it feels like… like you've outgrown me sometimes, and I don't like that feeling."

"I won't outgrow you. I promise."

"Promise?"

"Promise-promise."

"Double promise. I'm holding you to that."

"Good."

"So… where the hell did those two go? We _are_ on a schedule and this was _their_ idea."

"Ugh, I really hope it was their quarters."

Spleenk looked confused, and then cringed as realization dawned on him. "…Ew."

"My sentiments exactly."

"Then again… If it were me, I'd feel differently about the idea so I can't really blame them."

Lard Nar's eyes bulged as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. "What?!"

"Oh come on, 'Nar." Spleenk said casually, "I haven't known you all that long, but there is _no way_ you're as prude as you act."

"…I just don't think it's an appropriate conversational topic."

"Ah, you talk around it but you don't _deny_ it." Spleenk teased at the Vortian's expense.

Lard Nar sighed, "That was quite some time ago."

"Those days of sneaking off with someone to somewhere you're not supposed to be are long behind you, eh?"

Lard Nar choked briefly, his face completely blanched for a moment. "Damn Irkens," he muttered under his breath, "minds in the gutter…"

"You all right, 'Nar?" Spleenk asked with concern.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm fine… it's, erm, well… it seems I've heard one too many of Red's, er, _comments_. _Everything_ sounds like an innuendo these days."

"You know, I don't get why it's such a big deal to you."

Lard Nar cringed. "You mean you're _all right_ with the mental pictures he typically paints?"

Spleenk's thoughtful expression twisted into a grimace.

"That's what I thought."

"I'm willing to bet you were just as awful _quite some time ago_." He said, emphasizing the Captain's words.

"…I might've been a fair contender." He admitted. "If you mention that to Red or Purple, I swear, I'll stick you on janitorial duty for a week."

"That would be abusing your power as Captain, and I _believe_ that you just promise-promised you wouldn't do that." Spleenk grinned.

Lard Nar shook his head and grumbled.

"You've been spending a lot of time with them."

"Who?"

"Red and Purple."

"Oh. Yes, well, the logistics and everything needed to be worked out."

Spleenk didn't seem to care. "They seem happy. With each other, I mean."

"You know something? I think they really are."

"You've gotta admit, though… it _is_ kinda weird."

"What's kinda weird?"

"Out of all the possible combinations of compatible species in the known universe, two _Irkens_ … the race that doesn't even have a native word for 'love', would be the ones to actually find it."

"They're not the only people who'll ever be in love, Spleenk."

"I know." He sighed, "Out here, though… sometimes, it sure seems that way."

Eyes full of poorly-veiled affection, Lard Nar tried to reassure the other, "I know what you mean."

* * *

He ceased his fervent pacing when he heard the door to their quarters open and shut. He could see the victorious grin on the other's face without even looking in his direction.

"You're an ass."

Red nodded in agreement. "Yes. Yes, I am."

"I can't believe you did that."

"Of course you can."

Purple muttered to himself in an irritated tone. "You're such a jerk."

"If you wanna stand there and call me names, go ahead, Baby, I can do this _all day long_." Red teased.

The other grit his teeth.

"Aww, am I making this _hard_ for you?"

"No, you did a fine job of that earlier, thanks."

"And it was _quite_ a pleasure, to say the least."

"I swear I'm going to make you pay for that."

"No doubt in my mind you will."

"So why provoke me?"

"Because," the red-eyed Irken said, draping his arms around the other's neck, "You're damn good at making _sure_ I'm held accountable."

"Since I don't have the time to do a proper job of that right now, I'll consider this a small advance on what I plan to collect later."

"How benevolent of you."

"I know."

"…What's the problem?"

"You're still wearing clothes."

* * *

"How nice of you both to show up." Lard Nar greeted upon taking notice of the two former Irken leaders from his seat at the Communications panel.

"Yeah, we thought so, too." Purple responded with a grin.

"We're twenty minutes from breaking atmo, incase you're interested."

"Looks like we made good time." Red replied.

"Glad to see you're not stressed over the mission _at all_." The Vortian huffed, crossing his arms.

"Oh, he is. If I hadn't kept him occupied, he'd have been sitting here driving himself crazy."

"Before this turns into another horrible innuendo, I think I'm going to go get suited up with Shloonktapooxis and Tenn."

Red nodded. "Good point. You're gonna need to be in that stealth cruiser and prepped for launch in fifteen minutes. You know what to do from there, right?"

"Once we're in Vort's atmosphere, we launch ourselves and break with you. We land within range and breach the main prison's perimeter on foot. Getting in is easy. All I've got to do is keep alert and watch for activity on the ground floor until I get word from Shloonktapooxis, which is when I radio everybody to start the evacuation. Done harder things in my sleep."

"And you accuse _me_ of over-sharing?" Red raised an antenna with a smirk that caused Lard Nar to cringe painfully.

"That is _not_ what I meant and you know it!"

"You did put it out there."

"Oh, honey, don't start with that," Purple admonished with a smile, "he doesn't seem like the type to put out."

"Gah! Ack!"

"…Okay, I'm done." Red declared once the Vortian's hacking, gagging fits had dissipated.

"You're both horrible."

"You just make it too easy."

"I'm going to the armory."

Red sighed, "There you go again. Always ruining the fun."

The Captain rolled his eyes. "You have my _deepest sympathies_ , Red."

"You don't know how much that means," He replied in a voice dripping in sugar-sweet sarcasm, "really, I just can't find the words…"

Lard Nar offered the Vortian hand gesture that expressed the sentiment ' _go fuck yourself'._

"I'm flattered, 'Nar, really, but Purple I and don't do threesomes."

The Captain twitched seemingly in pain, clamping his head in his hands and shaking his head, and gave the distinct impression that he meant to find the nearest bottle of extra-strength cleaning solution and make himself a _very_ strong cocktail.

"Maybe I went too far this time?" Red asked his partner in a voice composed half of ' _oh shit'_ and the other half bemusement.

"…I think you broke his brain." Purple observed.

"He'll bounce back. I've put far more disturbing images in his head."

"I don't know, Red. It _was_ a pretty scarring mental picture."

"You think we should smack him or something?"

Purple sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Maybe a kick to the shins."

"Blunt-force trauma seems to be your solution for everything."

"Did this just become a 'state the obvious' contest?"

"Apparently I forgot who I was talking to."

"Come on, _everyone_ loves senseless violence now and again."

"…Fair enough, but this is hardly the time to turn the Captain into a soccer ball."

"Awww…" Red mock-pouted, "why not?"

"We _do_ need him to be mobile for the plan to work."

Red sighed, "All right, 'Nar, you're just making yourself dizzy. Give it a rest and get moving, I know you're just milking it now."

With no small sign of irritation, Lard Nar ceased his thrashing movements and scowled to himself. "No more reading my body language. It's not fair and it's downright creepy. And I swear, if you make any further comments regarding the reading of body language, I'm sticking you on another ship. As much as I hate to say I've grown _somewhat_ fond of your company, I'm fonder of keeping my _sanity_."

"Touché."

The Captain relaxed at Red's response and breathed a sigh of relief.

"You know you'd miss us."

The Vortian rolled his eyes at the red-clad Irken. "If you'll both excuse me, I've got to be going to the armory now. You know, _before_ we miss our window of opportunity."

"Good luck." Purple said in all seriousness.

"Be careful," Red advised, the playful edge completely gone from his voice, "we'll be in radio contact at all times. If something, _anything_ doesn't feel right to you, I want you to abort. Immediately. I don't care if it's something as insignificant as _foliage_ being out of place, if you notice that there's anything that isn't right, call it off and get the hell out. As loudly as you have to, if that's what it takes. Make sure you bring a decent supply of explosive charges, the kind that use remote detonators. I don't want to run the risk of hitting a dead end."

"Nice thinking."

Red sighed. "I don't know if we should go through with this."

"Why not? _You_ hardly seem the type to get cold feet." The Vortian responded.

"Funny, 'Nar. Pat yourself on the back for that one." The Irken said dryly, "I mean it. Something about this just doesn't feel right."

"What do you base that feeling on?"

"It's just… too perfect. Come on, Purple, think about it. Are the two of us really _this_ lucky? Statistically speaking, there's a better chance of a missile turning into a bowl of petunias."

"Have you actually _calculated_ those odds?" Purple asked, only to be met with silence and a scowl. "…Uh oh. 'Serious face'."

"Red, if it's not my place to make this kind of judgment, forgive me," Lard Nar prefaced, "but think about it. You made an impossible escape with the person you love after living under unbearable conditions for most of your lives. If that's not good fortune, I don't know _what else_ to call it."

A heavy sigh came from the former Irken dictator.

"We've planned out _every_ scenario. We're prepared for this."

"We've planned out every _probable_ scenario."

"We'll be fine, just as long as we're not lured into mortal danger with the promise of cake and grief counseling."

"…"

"So, uhm, yes, I'll be off to the armory now."

They watched Lard Nar as he exited the main deck, until he'd walked out of sight.

"…I take it back," Red began, "I think maybe I _did_ melt his brain."

"It seems there's a hole in your 'everyone-loves-senseless-violence' theory, Babe."

"Nah, that's one I'm sticking to. It's a universal constant. Somebody walks into a wall, I don't care who you are, or _what_ you are, you ought to be laughing. Earth even had those television programs Zim sent us copies of… they called them 'cartoons', right?"

Purple sighed, "How could I forget? They were the only thing you watched for a three months or so."

"Oh come on, you remember that hilarious overgrown rabbit and the bird-creature that was always driving that other… what did they call it… a 'coyote', or something, off a cliff and blowing it up. They were great!"

"They were just like _you_."

Red grinned. "See, you _totally_ loved them."

Purple just rolled his eyes, "Wonderful, I've taken the equivalent of a sarcastic oversized rabbit as a life-mate."

He didn't think about the words before they'd come out, and was just as shocked at them as Red was. It was one of those things that sounded like a witty rebuttal in his mind and somehow slipped through his mental filter. They both had figured it'd happen sooner or later, but they hadn't expected that those words would have been uttered so suddenly. It hung in the air between them so heavily that the weight was nearly choking them both.

There was no way Purple could backpedal out of this. He knew that if he gave a cheap, nervous rationalization it would in all probability, destroy everything between Red and himself. He'd already done it once, all those years ago when he'd first coaxed his partner into bed. He couldn't bear to watch Red withdraw so completely a second time.

Though the species no longer mated for the purposes of procreation and doing so for recreation was strictly prohibited, Irkens at one point in their history had been among those species in the universe that practiced pair bonding. Once an Irken chose their mate and the sentiment was returned, the two remained together for life. It was something as simple as a natural inclination. There were no laws in place to keep a set of partners together and yet, there had never been a case in which a pair of life-bonded Irkens had broken the tradition. The practice was probably driven and refined by some strange evolutionary instinct, as it had been hypothesized in something he'd once read. Irkens, by nature, tended to be very territorial creatures and very protective of that territory. As immature as it might have been, Purple couldn't deny that he often behaved as if he'd stamped a sign on Red's forehead reading, " _Property of Purple, Trespassers Will Be Shot. Survivors Will Be Shot Again. And Once More, For Good Measure"_. Red was equally as possessive, though it manifested more in his neurotic over-protectiveness and chronic worrying than warding off potential threats to the "claim" he'd staked on the other.

Once an Irken found his or her mate, it had been tradition that both parties would offer a spoken agreement, promising their lives to each other. There was no formal ceremony, nor was any kind of formal documentation necessary beyond the verbal promise of commitment. It was one of the reasons why Purple held such deep reverence for spoken words, particularly those he used when speaking of Red, and what they shared between each other. He appreciated the physical communication they had developed; the unique repertoire they understood had served well during the time when words were scarce and forbidden. Red had always been the type who believed in actions, and felt that they conveyed more than could ever be expressed in words. Purple did not disagree with his partner on that particular topic; however, he knew that gestures could be just as empty as broken promises.

He'd always felt that words held a certain power. Red had his mathematic equations, systems of numbers, charts, graphs, fractions, and decimal points. He saw the world as it was, as part of a system. Purple sometimes envied his partner's ability to see things so clearly and rationally. The ability to put things into categories and neatly arrange them in his mind had always made him the more efficient of the two. Purple was always more abstract in every respect. He felt that there was something about language; the power of the right word in the right place at the right time could completely change the course of existence. Saying something out loud and giving it a name, that was what made it real.

Everyone else seemed to use language so casually. Such powerful words, such charged phrases and statements loaded with meaning were passed between those around him without a second thought. Orders were issued as effortlessly as idle afterthoughts, in the kind of vocabulary he'd only dreamed of using.

The Irken language itself had become increasingly simplified and Purple had been lucky enough to have discovered within those books hidden away, a dictionary that must have been contemporary at the time when the collection had been assembled. Red had learned a fair share of it, simply from being around Purple so much, but he had also taken an interest. They had been incredibly fortunate to have found such a wealth of information. Whoever had put it together had been wise in their choice of content. It had made sense of so many things that had were never accurately explained, or had simply been ignored all together.

Mating had been something that had endured for so long, seeing as it was at its core a survival mechanism; a means of spawning a new generation and ensuring the continuation of a species. Something ingrained in the nature of a species since its very beginning as a means to survive was quite difficult to eliminate completely, and doubly so if the process itself was quite enjoyable.

Irk had done the only things it could to persuade its citizen not to procreate. They kept the people misinformed and terrified. At the age when Irkens generally started to mature, they studied what was described as a " _disgusting, shameful practice that less-evolved and uncivilized creatures engaged in",_ or that was how it had been introduced to Purple. He almost laughed in retrospect, thinking back on his old instructor and thought to himself, " _if only she could see me now"_. Unlike the other classes the two had together, in Primitive Life Sciences he would sit awkwardly beside Red, staring at his hands or the floor or the desk and try to will himself into non-existence. The two didn't pass notes between each other like they usually did, Red never suggested any pranks, and neither or them would speak to the other until they would meet up for dinner a few hours later. Everything would reset itself back to normal and so it went.

It seemed like cruel and unusual punishment to learn about "obscenely biological behavior" while sitting next to the person you often thought about indulging in it with.

Currently, the act in general earned you an Existence Evaluation Trial. If you were sufficiently devoted to the Empire as determined by the Control Brains, you would be demoted to the lowest ranks of Irken society and in all likelihood, spend time in the Prison of the Shrieking Void. Located just beyond the area known as Tortured Space where the event horizon of the Dead Quadrant began was a Prison Planet. It was rumored that few of those who were sentenced to even a brief term there ever returned, and the ones who did… they were never really the same. Scary stories told in the dark late at night, passed down from generation to generation claimed that the prisoners became science experiments or zombies, had their brains removed, or something similar. Even though he'd witnessed several Irkens sent there, Purple knew no more about the true nature of the place now than he did as a smeet. He was certain, though, that he didn't want to.

Purple didn't know if _They_ had been aware of his relationship with Red. The two of them had done an effective job of concealing it, but _They_ seemed to know everything else. Purple couldn't imagine that they wouldn't have bugged their bedrooms with something more complicated than the system Red had put in place to interrupt all monitoring equpitment, but maybe it was just part of their sick little mind game. By simply planting the suspicion in their heads, he and Red would err on the side of caution and do what _They_ wanted without wasting any more time and effort than necessary. Honesty through paranoia.

He'd been forced on more than several occasions to personally execute people who had admitted to being in love. Four of them had each gone so far as to take a life-mate. When he stopped and thought about it, Purple would sometimes conclude that one of them had been what finally broke him. Up until he'd been ordered to execute one particular prisoner, he had always wrestled with his conscience. He always felt sick and guilty, but after a while, after watching Red suffer so much as punishment for things he'd failed to do, Purple just started carrying out orders without asking questions or trying to fight back. It didn't make anything easier, and he certainly did not sleep better, but when he would lie awake at night beside Red, tracing the scars on his partner's back while the other slept, he knew there was no choice. There had never been a choice, and there never would be.

It had been an execution order like any other. There was nothing special about this Irken, aside from the fact that she had taken a life-mate, but Purple had been forced to deal with those circumstances in the past. Only, there _was_ something special about her, something so special, and Purple hated her for it. She was everything he had ever dreamed of being. She had the kind of strength Purple felt he would never be able to even imitate. She did not accept his excuses. She didn't apologize or beg or barter for her life, nor did she curse him for what he was doing. She pitied him. She was free in all the ways that he could never be.

Ori had been her name. She was a taller Irken, probably standing as high as his waist. She wasn't afraid, not for a second. She showed him exactly what he was becoming and he hated her for it. Something in him changed that day. Something flicked the switch that opened the cage and unleashed the monster that had been growing steadily inside him, fed and nourished by the pain and suffering he had endured over the years.

" _I'm sorry I have to do this."_

" _That's bullshit."_ She said with a knowing, satiated smile. There was no edge to her voice or malice in her tone. Instead, she spoke in calm, kind words, " _If you were sorry, you wouldn't be here right now. I'm not angry with you; you're just following the rules, but at least be honest as a courtesy."_

" _I_ am _being honest… you don't know_ how _honest I'm being right now. It's killing me to do this."_

" _That makes two of us, then."_

" _What?"_

" _It was a joke,"_ She sighed with a small smile, " _you said that this was killing you, and if you're dying and I'm dying, that means we're both in the same boat. I used the literal interpretation of 'killing you' as a play on words… I thought it was funny. Mildly amusing, at the very least."_

" _You don't believe me?"_

" _No,"_ she said _, "I don't. I'm sure you feel guilty. I'm sure you'll have guilt eating at you for some time, but that doesn't mean you're sorry. You just need me to believe you are, because_ you _need to convince yourself that what you feel is remorse and not regret, so you can ease your conscience once I'm dead. I'm not letting you off that easy. I think I'm entitled to that much, I mean you_ are _my executioner."_

Purple flinched at the word "executioner" and found himself unable to look at her.

" _None of that. You don't get to look away. You're not absolved of responsibility."_

Purple sighed, hating the fact that he knew she was right. " _Are you aware of the charges against you?"_

" _The charges wouldn't be half so serious if I wasn't."_

" _You admit that you have committed crimes against the Empire by,"_

She shook her head with a small genuine, nostalgic smile _. "I had a life-mate. I loved him. We did things together that are only legal in the Vegas system. The kind you have to pay extra for on a Brothel Planet. Don't worry, we took a vacation to the moon of Reno, outside the Empire. You're not missing any charges."_

" _You have not expressed regret or remorse for these crimes,"_

" _And as punishment, blah, blah, blah, I'm going to die. I get it."_

" _Listen to me, all you have to do is publicly apologize,"_

" _Never."_ She said plainly, " _I loved him. He's the only thing in my life I don't regret. I will not ruin his name."_

" _It's_ already _ruined! You can still save yourself!"_ He tried desperately.

" _You don't think I was stupid enough to actually get caught, do you?"_

" _What do you mean?"_

She laughed _. "You really think I walked around, planet-side, in crowded places every day with my face plastered on every_ Wanted _screen in the Empire because I wanted to_ improve _my odds of staying alive?"_

" _You… but you had to know the consequences."_

She nodded solemnly. " _And here we are, my Tallest. This is where it ends for me, and I can't think of anything that would be better."_

" _What would make you want to die?! You have no idea the kind of suffering that's out there!"_ He shouted, more indignantly than he would have liked.

" _All due respect, Sir, but I watched your soldiers do things to my lover that I can't talk about because I don't even think that words exist to really explain them. There's torture, Sir, and there's brutality. The things I've seen,"_ she paused, " _you couldn't even begin to imagine. And I hope you don't."_

" _You think you know so much about what goes on when the two of us aren't in front of you."_

" _So you're fucking Tallest Red._ There's _a shocker."_

" _How_ dare _you accuse,"_

" _Oh, drop the act. You're in a room with a dead girl. Level with a corpse."_

" _I would be very careful right now if I were you."_ He growled.

" _I thought you'd say that. It's as much of an admission as I'm going to get out of you, I figure. So tell me, what's it like?"_

Purple had never felt this kind of anger before, not in this kind of a situation. Ori's comments should have amused him – _would have_ amused him, and yet, he felt himself growing furious. Things were no longer in his control and he had no idea what to do.

" _At least answer me this, then. Who's on top? You both seem rather versatile to me, so I think you two switch it up."_

Purple backhanded the smaller Irken, only realizing afterward that he'd actually done it. He looked at his hand, and then at Ori, and then back at his hand as his chest heaved and he felt the rush of adrenaline that pulsed through his blood.

He liked it.

For the first time, he had struck someone intending to hurt them, and he liked it.

" _Time to go then, is it?"_

Spider-legs emerged from his Pak as Purple glared icily at Ori. " _Yes."_

With a feral growl, he lunged at his target.

He'd gone back to his room for a quick shower, and only for a brief moment thought it was odd that he felt no guilt whenever he remembered how strangely peaceful Ori's face looked while her body lay in a motionless, mangled heap. Red had entered the bedroom not long after he'd finished cleaning himself up.

" _I didn't see you this afternoon… where'd you go?"_ Red asked.

" _Oh, I just had some business to take care of."_

" _Are you… is everything okay?"_

Purple wrapped his arms around Red's neck, pulling the other close, " _Better now that you're here. I haven't see you_ alllll afternoon _,"_ he drawled, " _I've missed you."_

" _Mm. Clearly."_ The other replied, pressing his lips against his partner's. Purple responded by pressing Red against the wall behind them, pinning his wrists above his head.

" _Let's take the rest of the day off, hm?"_

" _Not that I mind it at all, but what's gotten into you all of a sudden?"_

" _Nothing. That's the problem."_

" _Well,"_ Red grinned, " _let's see if we can't do something about that."_

" _Good boy._ That's _what I like to hear."_ Purple said as he sharply nipped at the skin of his partner's neck.

Whenever he looked back on it, he couldn't help but feel responsible for the degeneration of Red's conscience. It was blindingly obvious that the physical intimacy had become a physical outlet for the things they suppressed during the day while gradually finding it easier and easier to surrender to selfishness and cruelty. Red couldn't find the solace in his partner that had helped ease his pain. When Purple finally broke and unleashed all of his inner turmoil on the Empire, Red had lost the only thing that had ever brought any semblance of peace to his life. Purple couldn't bear to rob him of that now.

"I… I didn't want to blurt that out so casually, it felt so familiar I never gave it a second thought…" He forced a laugh, "it just felt right to say… and I don't regret that I said it, not at all, because I mean it – you _know_ I mean it – I only wish… I'd have liked to have said it with a little more respect. At a better time."

"…I don't know what I'm supposed to say, Pur."

"I don't expect you to say _anything_. I won't take it back, but I don't expect you to return it. I'm not hurt, and I don't love you any less. It has to be in your own time." Red flinched as Purple took his hand and the violet-eyed Irken felt a surge of panic.

"Please, Red, this doesn't change anything. I'm still the same person you woke up next to this morning, I promise nothing is different. I don't expect anything more of you than I did ten minutes ago. I know it's kind of strange, and I know how powerful words are, but after everything we've been through… we shouldn't be afraid, not of this."

Red seemed to be considering what Purple said before taking in a deep breath and sighing, "You're right. It's not you, or me, or anything to do with us… just on top of everything that's happening, it was a little bit of a momentary stress overload. I'm okay, though," he said, lightly squeezing Purple's hand, "I'm okay."

"How many times do I have to tell you you're a terrible liar before you believe me? It's getting redundant."

Red sighed with a small smile, "Being right is _such_ a burden on you, isn't it?"

"Oh, you have _no_ idea."

"We've got a green light from Lard Nar and the shuttle, which means they're online and ready to go."

"His eyes didn't explode en route? I'm surprised."

"Think he'll be all right?" Red asked seriously.

Purple sighed, "I think he'll be fine. I think we're all going to come away from this just fine, Sweetheart."

"All right then." Red replied with a small smile. "Sally," he said, pressing a green button on the console in front of him, "open all communication channels."

After flicking various switches and pressing several buttons, the drooling alien did just that.

" _Home_ , calling all units; testing communications, please identify and respond, over."

"This is the _Sequax_ , online and in orbit, over."

" _Frustra_ , in position, over."

" _Ibi_ , we've got you loud and clear, over."

" _Icarus_ , en route."

" _Icarus_?" Red turned to his partner, his expression skewed in puzzlement, "why would you _ever_ even consider naming your ship the _Icarus_?" He turned back to the Communications Panel, "Why in all the galaxy is your ship called the _Icarus_? Over."

"…It sounded good. We got it from a primitive culture. Is there something wrong with it?"

"No, nothing at all… it's just… unusual. Take care, over." Purple interrupted.

"Why'd you lie to them?" Red asked after muting the COM system.

"Because a ship named _Icarus_ with a panicked crew on a highly dangerous mission is _not_ a good combination."

"… _Icarus._ What were they thinking? Even _I_ know that's a bad name to give a vessel. It's almost as bad as that Earth water-vessel, the _Titanic_."

" _Almost_."

"The _Nescio_ is on course. Ready when you are, over."

"Remember to use the landing coordinates I gave you, _Nescio_. I know it seems easier to land outside the front door, but that's _not_ the plan. We're waiting on you, _Alpha Team,_ Over."

"WOOHOO! _Alpha Team,_ AKA, _Mongoose Zombies_ read ya! Over!"

"…Is it bad that I now regard his response as entirely normal and not the least bit unexpected?"

"I think it proves you're fairly well-adjusted."

"Just making sure." He replied, "Breaking atmo in one minute and counting. Stay on course and hold your formation."

The descent into Vort's atmosphere proved to be a success, and the Stealth Cruiser detached itself without a problem.

Getting inside the prison presented little difficulty. The maintenance halls were virtually empty, the staff was already gathered in the break room watching the pre-inauguration festivities on the small telemonitor provided for them. Caught up in discussions of ceremonies past and debating former leaders, they wouldn't have noticed if Shloonktapooxis had been playing the tuba, parading right in front of the window. The trio effortlessly ducked beneath it, completely eliminating any chance at all of being seen by those inside. Once they had reached the elevator that led down to the security programming room, they double-checked their COM links and split up. Lard Nar headed into the main prison block while Tenn and Shloonktapooxis entered the elevator and headed toward the basement.

"Why does everything _always_ have to be in the basement?" Shloonktapooxis asked idly. "I mean, it's not convenient for _anyone_. We gotta sneak all the way into, like, the middle of this HUGE thing, and then we gotta go all the way down? That's just dumb. I mean, it's a pain for us, but it's gotta be even more annoying when you're doin it more than just once a day, like if you worked here. That'd suck."

"… You know, I never thought of it that way. I guess it's there to make it tougher for people like us to find. Though you could just keep it in room protected by a bio-signature checkpoint and armed personnel. Probably be a whole lot better for everyone." Tenn replied thoughtfully. Ineloquent as he might have been, there was something to be said for Shloonktapooxis, though she hadn't the faintest idea what it was.

The elevator doors opened to reveal an unkempt, industrial-looking basement. They exchanged glances before Shloonktapooxis gestured for Tenn to lead the way. The two made their way through the maze of empty, eerie hallways occasionally lined with ventilation ducts and bundles of wires that varied in color and thickness.

In the past, Tenn had never once allowed her mind wander, let alone would she consider it an option while on a mission. Lately, though, she found herself more and more doing things she'd never done before so it was no surprise when her thoughts began to stray. There had never been time, she thought to herself, for thinking. Not _this_ particular kind of thinking, anyway.

'Questioning', perhaps, was a better word. She often found herself _questioning_ ; and once she had started, she couldn't stop. It wasn't generally a bad thing, unless they were the kind of questions that spun her mind in impossible circles. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to have very many questions that did otherwise.

She'd been adjusting quite well, all things considered. Admittedly, it hadn't been all that long and she had yet to take up arms against her own kind. There was something very unnatural about the concept now that she actually took time to consider what it implied. She'd caused more than her fair share of destruction and she had no delusions about that. Planets had fallen at her hands and innocents had begged at her feet and she had never felt the slightest hint of remorse. She had been born with only the knowledge of how to fight and how to die, even before she'd been given a name.

She was sure it hadn't been that way for her two former leaders. They had _felt_ things, well before their Paks were meddled with. She suppressed the shudder rising up her spine and willed away memories of the scars she'd seen. They'd endured so much, in the name of something as intangible and subjective as "love". She wondered why they were born with such a capacity for emotion while the rest of the species lacked it completely. Maybe there were others like them, only they lacked an understanding of themselves. For the sake of her race, she hoped so.

Red had explained that she'd experienced a programming glitch that allowed her to feel, even with the receptors in place, during that private ransom call. Everything has its threshold and once that threshold is breached, whatever can't be contained just spills over. Far too much emotion felt far too fast nearly fried her receptors before they had even gone in to actively remove them.

She had very few clear memories from the days after the receptors in her Pak were extracted. They'd been kind enough to keep her under mild sedation, to allow her endocrine system to re-synchronize itself and for the dead or atrophied synapses to regenerate. They brought her back into full awareness slowly. Every day felt like waking up in a haze of fog until it dissipated enough for her to do some exercises to increase her mental acuity in order to ensure that no damage had been done in the process.

All that had been the easy part.

Controlling emotions, she found, was much more difficult. Frustration never seemed to leave her, and all she could see was hopelessness and death. She couldn't imagine how her former Tallests had coped.

" _Very poorly."_ Red had assured her.

" _You should've seen the furniture. Not a piece of it without dents or splinters that hadn't been clawed at. Red went through at least one clock per day."_

" _We agreed that we wouldn't break any glass, so what else was I supposed to throw?"_

" _That's because_ someone _decided to put their fist through the bathroom mirror."_

" _Like you never thought about it."_

" _You're right. You just got to it first."_

" _Good thing I did."_

Purple crossed his arms and looked at Red with a confused and almost worried expression, " _Why?"_

" _Because you didn't sever a major artery and nearly bleed to death on the bathroom floor with shards of glass permanently imbedded in your hand as a parting gift."_

Something in the way Purple looked at his compatriot changed. "… _I really thought you were going to die."_

Tenn did not demand that they recount the event any farther. It had obviously been more personal and private than relevant to anything that she needed to know. She was sure that even the least intelligent of creatures could derive from the context of the conversation that it had been a traumatic experience for both her former Tallest. No one in the resistance needed any more trauma than they'd already suffered, those two in particular.

"Hey, I think we're here!" said Shloonktapooxis, stealing Tenn from her introspection.

"Yeah, that's it all right." She said, observing the door sealed with a biosignature lock and blatant _DO NOT ENTER_ staring her in the face. " _Alpha Team A_ to _Home_. We've reached the target, over."

"Good, ok, what you need to do now is use the chip I gave you, the one with adhesive on one side. You need to stick that on the display, _directly_ below the touchscreen, over." Red's filtered voice spoke through her COM.

"Complete, over."

"All right, now just give me a second…" he paused, "there. Let the machine scan you like normal, over."

With no small degree of hesitancy, Tenn reluctantly placed her hand on the screen and waited for a confirmation or very loud sirens.

" _Bioscan Confirmed. Entry Authorized."_

"When we get back, you'll have to tell me how you did that, over."

"Will do." He said with a smile in his voice, "Take that thing with you, we don't want to leave anything that will lead back to us, over."

The door opened, revealing a security guard who'd been disturbed by the unexpected sound. "Hello? The next shift isn't supposed to be for another three hours."

Tenn stepped into view explaining, "You've seen what a mess this place is. I wanted to get everything done in time to watch the inauguration. They've got donuts upstairs in the break room."

He nodded, then paused, as if going over her response in his head. "Janitorial staff's not allowed on this floor."

"I can tell, have you taken a look around this room lately? Are we trying to breed some kind of biochemical weapon in here or monitor security?"

"Bioweapons are on Level 33."

"Oh."

"You've never been here before, have you?"

"First day."

In a heartbeat, the guard had his gun trained on Tenn. "We didn't take on any staff today."

"Was I supposed to check in? The main desk didn't give me any papers."

"They don't let just anybody do this job, you know. I'm the chief security officer for a reason."

"So… what are you trying to say?"

"I don't know what you're trying to pull here, but I do know that I have no tolerance for Irkens who go rogue."

"W…what do you mean?"

"I mean you're a terrorist. Worse still, you're _treasonous_. It makes me _sick_. You've turned your back on your own government, plotted against your own people – hell, I bet you're still loyal to those two cowards, aren't you? Is this some kind of pitiful attempt to avenge their honor?"

Tenn looked to the right and steadied herself.

"Thinking about leaving? The only way you're leaving here is with a hole in your head."

The pulse gun fired and Tenn dove to the left, out of its path. "You know," she said, "I _was_ going to let you live."

The guard laughed. "You're unarmed, little girl." He said, "What damage could _you_ possibly do?"

"Me? Oh, I can do _plenty_ , but you'll have to take my word for it because I'm running on a bit of a tight schedule."

"I agree. You should've been dead two minutes ago."

She sighed. "What _is_ it that makes a man with a gun think that he's god?"

" _Your_ life is in _my_ hands, bitch. If I were you, I'd start praying."

"And if I were you, I'd be having second thoughts."

"You're not going to kill me."

"No. But _he_ is." She said, nodding toward Shloonktapooxis.

"You should've listened." He said matter-of-factly, clipping the chief security guard in head with a pulse rifle.

"Thanks for the backup." Tenn said as she rose to her feet and got her gun back from Shloonktapooxis.

"No problem!"

" _Alpha Team A_ to _Home_. We're in, over."

"What took so long, over?"

"Chief of security. He talked too much, over."

"Well, just get to the main panel. You'll have to rip out the front and left covers to access the actual machinery. I'll guide you as you go. Move as fast as you can without being careless. I need one of you installing software and the other installing hardware."

The process consisted of re-routing some wires, installing three different software programs, bypassing and replacing the machine's motherboard, and reconfiguring the system's BIOS. One of the programs allowed them access to make these changes and execute commands by generating the necessary passwords. Once the parameters were set, Tenn radioed Red over the COM to check everything through the remote access link she'd established.

"Since I don't understand _any_ of what I'm looking at, tell me what all that means." An interested, confused Purple asked as he stared at the data on the monitor in front of his partner.

"See where it says ' _Recognize Biosignature: Irken'_ under the Security Alert heading?" When Purple couldn't seem to, Red pointed directly at what he was talking about, "Right there."

"Oh. So… we did it?"

Red shook his head with a smile, "You really are terrible at this."

"I'm sorry I don't speak Computer."

"It means we've reset the Security System to go off _only_ if an Irken tries to escape."

"So now everybody just walks out the front door and once they get there, Tenn disconnects the override. Then what?"

"Then I reset the parameters and Tenn walks out, herself. Wait. There's…" he squinted at the screen for a moment before pressing a button on the panel in front of him that opened a communication channel, "Sally, are you looking at the parameters we've set up?"

"Yeh, she sees 'em, she says." Sally only spoke in her native tongue, which sounded very much like gurgling and something similar to the noises made by an Earth-creature called a "whale". Her three-headed assistant, quite gifted with languages, translated her speech.

"Alright. Under the default protocols, check out Security Protocol 1."

"She says she's never seen coding like that. It doesn't make sense to her. Probably just damaged data."

"No… there's a pattern, look at it… it's encrypted. The goddamn thing's fucking _encrypted_. Shit." The stress in Red's voice made his feelings quite clear as he hailed everyone's COM. " _Home_ to all units; we have a problem. I recommend we abort the mission immediately."

There was a large degree of calamity until Lard Nar's voice could finally be distinguished.

"Captain speaking. What's the nature of the problem?"

"I reviewed the facility's security settings, and there's data we can't account for. It's a line of code that defaults to another system, and that's about all I can make of it. It's highly encrypted and uses a system that even Sally hasn't seen before."

"We have the system reconfigured, don't we?"

"Yes, but that won't make a difference if they've got an imbedded protocol we don't know about!" His patience was wearing thin and he could do little to conceal it.

"Try to relax, ok, Red?" Purple said in a calm, soothing voice.

The red-eyed former Tallest bit his tongue before lashing out at his partner. "Look, 'Nar, we don't know what we're dealing with and I recommend that we err on the side of caution here."

"We've got a better chance of being caught by aborting the operation. We'll continue as planned. I take it you're ready to unlock the cell doors?"

He sighed desperately in resignation, frustrated that he no longer held absolute authority. "Initiating override sequence one." He said, typing the appropriate command. "The doors are opened. Try to keep it as quiet as you can. The Inauguration is starting so they won't be easily distracted, but don't be over-zealous. We have a lot of people to move. All evac teams, move in now."

With his orders, the evacuation began. Red breathed a heavy sigh and turned his attention to the violet-clad Irken whose focus was fixed on a small screen in right-hand corner of the panel that was currently broadcasting the Inauguration.

He didn't need to ask if the soulless, hollow look in his partner's eyes had manifested out of memory. He watched the two young Irkens in the aftermath of their grand entrance. Neither raised their arms too high. Their smiles were forced and wavering. Red saw the silent tears streaming down Purple's face as he stood completely rigid, one hand over his mouth in horror and the other clenched in a tight fist, his arm wrapped tightly around himself.

Purple just leaned into the gauntlet-covered arms that urged him gently against Red's chest. Neither of the former leaders exchanged a word.

* * *

"People of Irk," began the tall, blue-eyed Irken, "it is true that we have been dealt a devastating blow. It is frightening indeed to know that we have fallen victim to deception, fundamentally betrayed by those we trust to keep us safe, united, and strong. We could fall to ruin, as so many uncivilized nations have done in the past, or we can rally. Irk still reigns supreme, and though we mourn the passing of an old era, we embrace the dawning of a new one with open arms."

"We must ensure that these circumstances are never allowed to happen again. In order to keep Irk in the hands of those with only the purest of intentions, we must not live in fear; Irkens know no fear."

The crowd cheered, and Phthalo tried desperately not to cringe as he picked up where his Co-Tallest left off. "It is of the utmost importance that all threats to the Irken Empire be neutralized. In order protect ourselves from outside and inside threats, both Tallest Cyanine and myself have established a new branch under Planetary Security called 'The IrkWatch Council'. They will train and approve squads assigned to major areas, and the organized and registered groups of local IrkWatchers will report any suspicious activity. It is the duty of every Irken to keep his eyes open and himself alert; one can never be too cautious during times like these."

"We are hoping that this institution will help allay your fears and worries. Any Irken may speak with, and is _encouraged_ to speak with IrkWatch Officers. There is no penalty for being an upstanding citizen and looking out for our precious Irk."

Cyanine was followed by a thunder of applause and wild cheering, as if the two Irkens on stage had just rescued every one of them from certain death.

Phthalo took a deep breath and began speaking once the applause began to die down. "We also have another announcement that is certain to make Irken history. My fellow Tallest and I are pleased to bring you what promises to be the start of an amazing revolution. Our scientists and doctors have been trying for years, and finally, they have discovered the secrets behind growth and height."

There were several hopeful gasps and whispers of awe and disbelief as the audience stood completely captivated in wake of this news, while somewhere far away on a certain insignificant little planet called Earth, a former Irken Invader-turned-Food Service Drone felt his heart begin to race.

* * *

He watched the inauguration in horror, understanding for the first time what was _really_ being said. In the past, Zim had never bothered to read between the lines; he had never bothered to read the actual lines in the first place, because he always assumed he knew. _He_ knew everything; it was always the rest of the universe that had it wrong. It was an assumption he had been under since he'd been given consciousness and never bothered to question it because he never had a reason to.

He'd been nothing but a fool.

"Um… Master…" The Computer tentatively spoke.

"Not now! I need silence to watch the broadcast!"

"I know, Sir… but, uh… do you know you're bleeding?"

"What?"

The Computer grumbled. "Your hands."

The small green alien realized that his nails had pressed so tightly into his palms that they'd broken the skin without his awareness. "Oh," he said, quickly opening his hands, "I didn't realize what I was doing."

The Computer muttered something along the lines of " _Unbelievable. Brain the size of a planet and I'm trapped on this insufferable rock…",_ but Zim wasn't listening.

A high pitched, squeaky gasp cut sharply through his trance. "What GIR?"

"Master's hurt!" He cried out, "Speak to me, Master!" The little robot begged tearfully as he clung to Zim's leg and hung on for dear life.

"I'm speaking."

GIR breathed a massive sigh of relief before launching himself at his master, trading his previous hold on Zim's leg for one around his neck. "I thought you were a goner for sure!"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, GIR. Now get off of me!"

The robot squealed with joy and ran off, seemingly ecstatic over something Zim failed to make any sort of coherent sense of. He didn't try too hard, though, as GIR's thought process was… 'unique' to only him.

Zim sighed and rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. Everything had changed since he removed the receptors in his Pak, and though in the back of his mind he was convinced that he'd made the right decision and had no regrets whatsoever, it did not mean that he was at all enthused about the side effects. He rarely moved, slept, or ate, and the only time he spoke was either reprimanding GIR or issuing a command to the computer.

He watched the cheering crowds on the monitor in his lab and felt _something_ at the very core of him die. In its place, he felt something new and unwelcome settle like lead. Alone, miles below the ground of the planet he had so vigorously tried to destroy, Zim knew that he could no longer allow himself to indulge in the bliss of ignorance.

Everything he feared had been confirmed, and Zim learned a new emotion:

Hopelessness.

" _Evac_ _Team 1_ to _Home_ , do you copy?"

"Loud and clear, over. What's your status?"

"Complete, over."

"Good. All ships, warm up your engines but _do not_ engage thrusters. Basically, if it makes _any_ noise, keep it off."

Once the final Evacuation Team reported in, all ships were ordered to standby as Shloonktapooxis and Lard Nar made their escape. Red guided Tenn through the necessary hardware modifications while he reset the system defaults remotely. Red issued the computer a final command as ordered by Lard Nar, and suddenly, he felt ' _I told you so'_ just wasn't as much fun to say as it used to be.

Actually, there was no humor at all in the flashing red letters that screamed from the monitor,

**SYSTEM BREACH**

**CODE: 1**

**THREAT LEVEL: CRITICAL**

**INNIATING SECURITY PROTOCOL 1**

**PHASE 1: SEALING EXITS**

Red swore in six different alien languages, slamming his fist into the console, " _Home_ calling all units, mission is compromised, I repeat, mission is compromised. _Alpha 3_ is still inside, over."

"Nobody moves yet," Lard Nar ordered, "we can't risk the attention. The prisons all have external defense missiles. What's the status inside? Over."

"Sally and I are trying to re-establish a connection with the security mainframe and override it, but it's cutting us off every time we find an open gateway. I've never seen programming like this before. This isn't a standard lockdown… and there's a huge energy spike in main reactor, over."

While he knew next to noting about computers in comparison to Red, Purple did have a knack for synthesizing information. He watched the security display, hoping to discover exactly what "Security Protocol 1" involved. He found it strange that neither of them had heard of it, considering that the entire prison system had been established during the time when they were supposed to have been supplied with this information.

**PHASE 1: COMPLETE**

**INITATING PHASE 2: REDIRECTING POWER**

"Damnit! _Alpha 1,_ all entrances and exits are sealed completely. _Alpha 3,_ what's your status, over?"

"I made it out of the office, but the elevator isn't working and a blast door is sealing off the stairs, over."

"There was nothing about blast doors in the blueprints…"

"Can't you override them?"

"I could do a great _many_ things, Captain, if I could _get back inside the system_!"

"…Red," Purple started as if he'd realized something, "you said that this prison controls the power for all of them."

"This is _not_ the time."

"Humor me, then." He said with no small amount of irritation, "What happens if there's an overload?"

"They're all on the same circuit, but the system's programmed so that if one goes out, they all go out."

"So what happens when a fusion reactor on a circuit programmed like this has an overload?" Purple asked in more of a rhetorical tone than anything else.

"… Every single one of them explodes. They're all equidistant from each other. The sheer force of a chain explosion like that… it would decimate the entire planet. Hell, if the reactors are deep enough underground, it might be enough to turn Vort nothing but an asteroid field."

"One thing at a time. We need to concentrate on getting Tenn out of there, all right? Pull up the schematics and send them to the console next to you. I'll find her a way out. I'm good at that, remember?"

Red nodded and as asked, sent the building's schematics to the terminal beside him. "This is all my fault."

"There you go again. This isn't anywhere near over and you're already convinced you personally executed all of us. Keep trying, okay? It's not easy but we need you to try." He said, before activating the COM-link. "This is _Home_ to _Alpha 3_ , and I feel like an idiot using these codenames, how about you?"

"Moronic."

"Good. Anyway, seeing as your regularly scheduled contact is preoccupied with computer hacking, I'll be your tour guide for the evening. Is it evening down there?"

"…You know, I have absolutely no idea."

"Works for me. Let's get started! First, I need you to activate your distress beacon."

"But won't the guards be able to track the signal?"

Purple sighed. "Sally's assistant is going to keep it scrambled for as long as he can."

"Then what?"

"…Then you run. Really, _really_ fast."

A short moment later a blinking green dot appeared on the monitor's schematic display. "How many explosive charges do you have?"

"Two packs."

"And what's your weapons status?"

"Fully-charged pulse rifle, the half charged pulse gun I took off the Chief of Security, six rounds of energy cells, standard-issue Irken Combat Knife, and 9mm energy pistol, for emergencies."

"At least you're armed."

"Well, explosives weren't my thing. I prefer mid to close-range combat."

"Duly noted. Let's see how far I can get you with what you've got…"

" _Alpha 2_ to _Home_ , I need a way back in."

"What?" Both Purple and Tenn asked simultaneously over the COM.

"He's completely out of his mind," Said Lard Nar, "scouting out the perimeter for an access point."

"All right, everybody, just calm down and let me work this out." He stared at the schematic in front of him and studied the massive maze of ducts and space between tunnels, examined access points and ins and outs and finally, it hit him. "Oh, this is _brilliant_!"

"Why do you sound excited?" Asked Lard Nar.

"Because I'm _good_ , Captain. I am very, _very_ good."

"Now is _not_ the time for innuendos!"

"Well, I didn't mean it like that but, yes, that's true as well. So, who's interested in getting off this planet before all hell breaks loose, which by my watch, should be any second now? Good, glad we all agree. All right, _Alpha 2_ , I need you to get back to the shuttle. Fire up the engines and wait for further instructions. _Alpha 1_ , you're going to head to the lower northwest side. You're going to plant a good number of explosive charges there and set them off on my mark. It's the one soft wall of the building. Apparently, the maintenance staff is expendable."

"Right. Uh, there are two huge defense towers right there."

"That's what I'm counting on. They won't notice you, because everyone is in too much of a panic, but they _will_ notice the explosion and start firing on themselves, which should be enough to force your way in. Got that?"

"Yes."

" _Alpha 3_ … just follow my directions exactly and you'll be all right. … _Alpha 3_? Come in, _Alpha 3_ … this is _Home_ to _Alpha 3_ , do you copy? _Do you copy?!_ "

Tenn did copy, but it was rather hard to form words at the moment. She had seen things that would shock and horrify most other races and yawned in the face of them. What stood before her now, however, was the stuff of nightmares.

"Well, well, well…you've caused quite a stir around here, little lady. But we know that you couldn't have done it alone. You had help, didn't you?"

"…Why are you referring to yourself in the plural?" She supposed it was shock that made her unable to access intelligent thought because she found herself with little control over the words that came out of her mouth.

A laugh. "Because there is no 'I'. We are all merely parts of a single unit, working toward a common goal. I'd say 'common good' but I have a feeling you won't believe me."

" _You're_ going to tell _me_ about what's good?"

"Pity, I'd so hoped that you were more enlightened. I'd kill you either way, mind you."

"What are you doing in a Vort prison? You don't have business here."

"Funny, I could ask you the same thing. But, since you did ask first, I'll be polite. I'm in a Vort prison because my presence here is necessary. Clearly, if you assume that all of our business takes place on Irk, you're sadly mistaken."

"…But I thought,"

"You _thought_?" He hissed, "Is that what you call the nonsense you spill? You know _nothing_ of us. Whatever little information you _think_ you have is not even the beginning. You could never understand our purpose."

"Genetic cleansing and torture? I think I understand that fairly well."

He sighed. "Little girl, you haven't the slightest idea. But, in the scheme of things, your limited scope of knowledge has no bearing." He unsheathed a long, old but well-maintained sword and Tenn instinctively took a step back. "Some of the others prefer more contemporary methods. Energy weapons are more powerful, they tell me. I say that anyone can pick up a gun and shoot, but it takes dedication and determination to use a sword. This one has been mine for almost two centuries. Two centuries of blood on it's blade. It's really,"

Tenn unexpectedly drew her pulse gun and quickly fired a shot, striking the darkly-cloaked Irken in the stomach. He stopped mid-sentence as if he'd had the wind knocked out of him and staggered backward, gasping for air.

"I'm sorry, did I give you the impression that I cared?"

A deep laugh came from Irken whose breathing was beginning to even. "You shouldn't have done that. He turned toward her and she caught a glimpse of the wide grin on his face, "You really, really shouldn't have done that."

"…That's impossible. Y-you should be dead – _nothing_ can survive a direct critical hit from a pulse weapon at this range."

"On the contrary, you _can._ If you're wearing energy-absorbing armor. You did manage to ruin this cloak, which makes you _quite_ a nuisance. But that won't be of consequence, considering it'll be ash in ten minutes."

"Why ash?"

He chuckled. "Security Protocol 1. Automatic self-destruct."

"You won't just turn it off once you've killed me?"

"It _can't_ be 'turned off'. That's the point."

Tenn knew these people, whoever they were, had been monsters. Sick and depraved barbarians who derived pleasure from the pain of others. She knew they had no problem with mass murder. What would one building with a skeleton crew be, on top of the mountains of bodies they'd metaphorically piled up? "And you're willing to die for this?"

"I pledged my life to our cause, _our_ order, and it serves the larger agenda."

"And that would be what?"

"If you think I'd be so stupid as to reveal that, perhaps I'm doing you a favor." He said, smiling. He charged her with his sword, and Tenn did the only thing she could think of. There was a loud crash and a sharp pain in her side that simultaneously occurred as she fired her weapon. She winced as she fell to the ground, dropping her gun and clutching her side as she felt the world beginning to dissolve around her, only mildly registering the explosion of gore that sprayed from the other's shoulders.

" _Alpha 3,_ can you hear me!?" The frantic voice coming through the COM asked. "What's your status?"

"…I'll be fine. Don't send anyone in for me."

"What the _hell_ happened?"

"I ran into… one of _Them_ …." She replied, applying more pressure to the wound she hadn't even examined yet. "This place is going nuclear in about eight minutes. I won't be able to get out in time, and I won't have anyone else dead." She swallowed hard, "Not because of me."

"Tenn. Listen to me. _They_ feed off fear. He needed you scared, ok? I've got you a way out. It's not easy, but if you get moving, you can still make it. You need to get to the storage closet at the end of the hall."

Tenn looked up and took a glance around her. She wasn't going to make it out of the prison. Still, she didn't like the thought of spending her last conscious moments in a room with a corpse that she'd blown the head off of. She'd go out fighting, like she always knew she would. It seemed right that her last act should be saving lives instead of taking them. She had done a good thing, the _right_ thing, for the first time in her life and if it ended tonight, she still would not regret it.

"I'm on my way." She said. Pain ripped through her body as she stood. Irkens healed quickly, but the process was never immediate. Tearing a strip of black cloth from the headless corpse's robe, she fashioned herself a makeshift bandage and claimed his sword for herself. If she was going to die, she was taking that damned thing to hell with her.

"Use a few explosive charges to blow the ceiling in the storage room. You'll be able to reach a small office from there."

She did as instructed, and under normal circumstances she'd be able to maneuver herself onto the next floor. She wavered on her feet and fought another bout of lightheadedness.

"Have you made it yet?"

She sighed, leaning against the wall, resting her head against the cool concrete surface. "I can't." She said. There was no malice or anger or even resignation in her voice. Her breathing was shallow and her body was beginning shake, but she knew that was just an inevitable side effect.

"But you can still get out!"

"I hadn't pegged you for an optimist, Sir." She smiled. "I'm hurt. Even if I made it out in time, I'd still die before the rendezvous. Wouldn't survive the launch."

"…What happened? Why didn't you say something?"

She slid to the floor and sat as comfortably as she could, "He stabbed me. In my side somewhere, just before I blew his head off.

It's deep, and I'm losing too much blood. I'm all right with it, though. I'm not angry."

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, Tenn. I wish there was… I can try to find,"

"It's all right." She said, "I'd like to say goodbye. Can you patch me through to everyone's COM?"

"What about the emergency teleport? You've still got yours, right? We can send it the coordinates to take you back to the ship.

We could get you into surgery in a few seconds, Tenn, you'll be fine!"

"You know about how risky teleportation would be for a healthy person, Sir."

"I think it's a risk you can afford to take at this point."

"My body's too weak to withstand it. My biorhythms aren't steady enough for complete re-atomization. Even if I _did_ manage to stay in one piece, I don't have the stamina it would take. Besides… it hasn't been tested on sentient life forms yet, let alone multiple species."

"There has to be something, some way around this. There's _got_ to be a way to get you out alive."

She gave a sleepy laugh, "You two. So alike… always trying to fix things. Sometimes, when something breaks, it can't be fixed… you've just got to replace it."

"Replacing you is _not_ an option."

"Neither is forfeit." She replied, "If you don't finish this, if the Resistance falls, none of this will matter. If you give up, everyone dies. If you want to do something for me, make this one fucking spectacular revolution." She took a breath and a brief silence passed between them, "Patch me through."

Purple reluctantly reset Tenn's COM link and held his head in his hands.

"Resistance Field Operative Tenn to all units." She said, holding back tears, "…It's been an honor serving with all of you. Over and out."

Purple cut the transmission and signaled Lard Nar and Shloonktapooxis, "Abort mission. Report to shuttle and depart immediately."

"…You said you could get her out!"

"I know. But that was before,"

"Before _what_?! We can't leave without her!"

"We have to. There's not enough time."

"You told me you could get her out! _You_ promised _to get her out of there!_ "

"Shloonktapooxis, I'm so sorry, but there's nothing I can do… even if she got out alive, she'd die on the shuttle. I'm sorry, I… there was nothing I could do."

Shloonktapooxis did not respond, and Purple guessed it was because he'd opened a private channel with Tenn. He sighed and abandoned his station, "Give the order, Red."

"But I can,"

"We don't have time." He said, laying a hand on the other's shoulder. "We need to put as much distance between us and this planet as we can."

With a pained expression, Red stopped typing and instructed everyone to fall back. "Just follow the coordinates and you'll get out clean."

They felt the ship shudder back to life, her thrusters roaring back to life in preparation for launch.

" _Alpha 2_ to _Alpha 3_ … are you there?"

"I'm dying," She said, "there's no reason to speak in code. If anything records this transmission, who I am won't matter."

"…He said he could save you."

"And he would have."

"Can't you try the teleporter?"

"You know I'm injured. There's no sense in trying to reassemble a molecular structure that's unstable."

"…There's really nothin' we can do?"

"I've got all of eternity to think about being dead, Shloonktapooxis. That's more than enough time to spend on a topic. Let's talk about something else."

"Like what?"

"You know something funny?" She said, taking a sharp breath, "I think you were the first person who ever made me laugh."

"…I'm glad. You shouldda said something, 'cause then I'd have done it more often."

"I've always been curious," she said, "you've been so kind to me and I never did anything to prove I deserved it. Why did you want to help me?"

"Why _wouldn't_ I?"

"A lot of the crew still don't appreciate my being there. Earning their trust and respect has been so hard, and I know I'm maybe only twenty percent there. But you trusted me from the moment I switched sides. I guess I'd like to know why you gave me a chance."

"'Cause you deserved one."

"You couldn't have known that."

"No. But you didn't let me down. And you turned out to be somebody really great."

"I'm glad I met you, for what it's worth."

"Believe me," He said, "That's a lot."

* * *

"You summoned me, My Tallest?"

"Indeed we have." Phthalo replied, "Our Head of Security alerted us a short time ago, and we've got a bit of a mission for you."

"We received word that a certain Invader has been deactivated. We'd like you to investigate the matter and report the details surrounding it." Cyanine explained.

"I don't understand… why all this over one Invader?"

"Luckily for you, understanding isn't a requirement. I suppose we can always assign this mission to another Invader."

"But Phthalo, he was out first choice." Cyanine joked with his co-leader at the clueless Invader's expense.

"Mission accepted, My Tallest, I won't let you down, I promise."

"Good. That's more like it." Cyanine relaxed in his chair, snapping his fingers. A Service Drone emerged from what seemed like nowhere with a soda for the tall Irken in green robes.

"Might I ask who I'm looking for, Sirs?"

"Invader Zim. Well, technically, he's not an Invader."

"…Zim's dead?"

"What? Did you know him or something?" Cyanine asked, paying more attention to his beverage than the Irken in front of him.

"…Kinda. Well, the same way everyone knows him, I guess." He lied.

"We'll need you to get going on this as soon as possible, so see the Head of Security." Phthalo said, redirected the conversation.

"It'd do the people good to hear some happy news."

He bit his tongue and saluted his newly-inaugurated leaders, "Yes Sirs."

The small Invader left the room and the two tall Irkens sighed. "You there! Service Drone!" Cyanine called, "Throw yourself out the airlock!"

The Drone looked horrified and began whimpering as he scuttled off to meet his doom as instructed.

"…'Throw yourself out the airlock'?! What the hell is wrong with you, Cy?" Phthalo shouted angrily.

"He was here while we were discussing Zim. That's information he can't know."

"So you made him kill himself?!"

"Would you rather it be one of us who has to kill him?"

"What are you talking about?" Phthalo asked.

The other Tallest sighed. "Those people who tell us what to do… do you _really_ think they'd want a Service Drone walking around with privileged information? They've made us do the dirty work for them so far, Phthalo. Do you really think they'll commit murder if they've got two people to do it for them?"

Phthalo studied the floor intently, "I don't think I want to do this."

"Me neither. But we haven't got a choice, so let's try to make the best of it."

"I guess you're right. On the bright side of things, Zim won't be interfering anymore."

"See, there's something."

"And we've managed to get rid of that other problem Invader."

"Well that doesn't sound like you."

"Head of Security said he was a high-level threat. I'm not going to put someone who's a high-level threat in a position to strike at us. Besides… he's short."

Cyanine laughed, "And ugly."

"We'll give Invader Skoodge just enough fuel to reach Earth. Once he tells us what we need to know about Zim, he'll either receive an order to kill Zim or a virus that'll take his systems offline… permanently."

"Good idea. I mean, he's only to blame for forgetting to check his fuel levels." Cyanine offered a knowing, satisfied grin.

"Exactly."

"I'm hungry. What do you say we head back to the party?"

"Sounds good to me."

* * *

"This is the _Nescio_ … they've got a weapons lock on us, over."

" _What?!_ " Red shouted into the COM, "That's not possible, the coordinates I gave you were well out of their defensive range!"

"…Well… uh… we might've accidentally landed a bit closer than we intended."

"No, there was _accidental_ about it," Red spat furiously, "you _deliberately_ ignored orders and now everyone on your ship is going to die. You just killed your crew _and_ one fifth of the people we were trying to save."

"I _know that!_ I don't need _you_ to be pointing it out right now!"

Red offered a humorless chuckle, "You expect me to be _sympathetic_?"

"How can you say _I'm_ responsible for this?!"

" _Because I warned you!"_ He shouted, "I told you _exactly_ what _not to do_ and _you went and did it anyway_! That makes you culpable in every respect. The blood's on _your_ hands so have some decency and _own it._ "

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

"Oh aren't you clever. Don't blame _me_ for _your_ incompetence. Instead of exchanging useless cheap shots, why don't you try to evacuate as many people into escape pods as you can? They can't _all_ get shot down."

There was an angry huff and the signal clicked off. Red held his head in his hands and sighed in frustration, "I _knew_ this was a bad idea…"

Purple was about to explain how wrong his partner was, but caught himself before he spoke. Now was not the time. Later, when all this chaos was over, they would speak.

"What haven't I tried yet…?" He wracked his mind for an answer, "Damnit! And I thought only _Zim_ could screw something up this badly! … Wait," Red paused to organize his thoughts, "we've still got hardware wired into the mainframe." He said, enthusiastically typing things that Purple didn't understand into the computer.

"What does that mean? Can we stop this?"

"Well, we probably can't _stop_ it, but if this works and I'm right, we can _delay_ it."

"Long enough to get Tenn out alive?"

"Can't say for sure yet… but it _should_ at least be enough to get the _Nescio_ out."

"What's the plan?" Purple asked anxiously.

"Our hardware is still connected to their system. All this time we've been trying to go in through the software, but if I can manage to send enough defective information, I can trigger an overload. I'll have to be careful, because I'm sure there's some failsafe that'll detonate the reactor core if the prison powers down."

"What then?"

Red smiled and hailed Sally's COM, "How fast can you write me a virus?"

"Depends on what you need it to do, she says."

"Something that forces a machine to contradict orders."

"About three minutes, she says, if you send her the computer's specs."

"They're on the way. Now, you bastard computer, I'm gonna give you one hell of a headache."

Purple resumed his position at the terminal beside his partner and signaled Shloonktapooxis, Lard Nar, and Tenn. "Hello again ladies and gentlemen – well, I guess it'd be _lady_ and gentlemen, but that's beside the point. What do you say we get all of you the fuck off that planet alive?"

"I can't move." Tenn replied, the physical pain now manifest in her voice.

"If this works, you won't have to."

"There's nothing you can do in less than two minutes."

"Ha!" Red shouted in satisfaction, grabbing Purple's attention.

"It worked?"

"We've confused the hell out of the security system." He said, "Sally, I'm gonna need you to send that virus two minutes ago."

A moment passed before the voice of Sally's assistant was heard over the COM. "Just sent it."

"All right… come on, come on… yes! I don't fucking believe it! It's actually gone _offline_!" He turned his attention to the station beside him, "All right, Pur, you've got a solid fifteen minutes before the failsafe kicks in and the computer figures out it's been hacked to get the ground team out of there. _Nescio_ , do you copy? Over."

"We're trying to evacuate."

"Don't worry, just get your ship out of there."

"They'll blow us out of the sky!"

Red's palm made fast acquaintances with his forehead, "I've disabled the missiles. The security grid is down for the next fifteen minutes. Now get out!"

"Ok, Shloonktapooxis, you're going to shoot down the missile towers and land near the hole in the building 'Nar made."

"Gotcha."

"Tenn, you've got to keep conscious. Just try to do that much."

"I don't think… I'm just… I need to lie down." She coughed.

"That was blood, wasn't it?" Purple asked.

She would have joked in reply, but the pain was overwhelming.

"'Nar, you've got ten minutes. Are you inside the building?"

After a short moment, he replied that he was.

"Down the hall, go right, then right again, then turn left. There's the Med Lab. You need to grab something called a Biostabilizer and Trauma Kit. First Aid won't be enough. Then blow a hole in the floor and on the next level, you're going to have to walk out the door, into the hall, and down the south end corridor. About halfway, there's another soft spot. Find the kitchen, and detonate near the center of it. Drop down again and you'll be in the office above Tenn. She's already made you a way in. Down once more, and we'll go from there.

Lard Nar was already on his way before Purple had finished instructing him. He had never the type to leave one of his own behind and he wasn't about to start. Grabbing the Biostabilizer Kit, he blew a hole in the floor and descended to the floor below. He idly thought in the back of his mind how out-of-character this sort of behavior was for him. He had been calm and collected and for the most part, keeping himself together, which was something that didn't usually happen. He supposed the adrenaline was helping with that, though, and he'd probably have a neurotic breakdown once he made it back to his ship and the weight of everything actually settled in. As it was, though, he didn't have much time for thinking. He saw the open hole in the office floor and sprinted toward it, finally reaching the level below.

"Tenn?! Where are you?"

"I'm monitoring her life signs through the distress beacon," Purple said over the COM, "She's in the lefthand corner, but I think she's lost consciousness. You don't have a lot of time, 'Nar, so find her and do _exactly_ what I tell you."

The Captain indeed found her unconscious, lying on the floor. "She's still bleeding."

"Open the Kit. Inside, there's going to be a series of ChemPatches and injections. I need you to give her a direct shot of adrenaline into her bloodstream and push five milligrams of epinephrine. Check her pulse, then go through the kit and look for a rubber cylinder that looks like a flashlight. You need to turn the first dial to Preset 5 and the second to 'critical'. Undress the wound, give her a local anesthetic, press the glass surface flush against her skin and slide the main dial to the ON position. Tell me once you've gotten that far."

He had never been a fan of the medical field, but Lard Nar knew he did not have the time to hesitate. Placing his reservations aside, he cringed as he plunged the syringe of synthetic adrenaline into the center of the Irken's chest. He injected the epinephrine into her arm as Purple instructed, taking her pulse before carefully removing the cloth she'd bled through and exposing the torn flesh to open air. Lard Nar had never really seen a fresh stab wound before, and the sight made him slightly disoriented. He collected himself and injected the anesthetic, locating the cylindrical object and setting it to the necessary specifications.

"I've got it."

"Good. Once she's conscious, she's going to be in pain, even though you numbed the surface. Whatever you do, _do not let her pull away_ or flail too wildly. Keep reminding her who you are and what's going on."

"What _exactly_ is this thing doing?"

"Cauterizing the wound with lasers. Normally, it would just feel odd or at worst, maybe itch or burn…but if she's as bad as I think she is, it's going to feel like someone's burning her insides."

Lard Nar cringed.

"It'll beep when it's done. Don't worry if it looks less than pleasant – it's supposed to. You'll need to dress it with a universal Flesh-Graft. It's self-adhering… becomes part of the skin using nanogenetic replication organitechnology. To be safe, use some ultrafine gauze and the wrap a cold pack in an elastic-bandage and have her ice the injury."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah. Get the hell out of there."

Lard Nar was about to make a witty retort, when Tenn suddenly wrenched her body and howled in pain. He fought to keep the Cauterizer in place, shouting for her to calm down. He wrestled against her with only one arm for a while, and she'd kicked him in the face before realizing who he was.

"…Captain?"

"If I wasn't certain that you were in more pain than I am right now, I might stick you on janitorial duty."

"What are you – _oh my_ GOD _that hurts!_ "

"You've got to stay as still as you can, all right? I'm trying to close the wound."

She hissed, trying to take in a breath of air, exhaling an impressive string of expletives.

" _That's_ a new one." Lard Nar said with mild amusement.

Tenn grumbled before crying out in pain again.

It had been under a minute, but it might as well have been forever for both of them. The pain was constant and overwhelming, but the stimulants made it impossible for her to pass out. Lard Nar felt physically sick watching the sheer amount of pain Tenn was fighting. She struggled to keep herself still but could not prevent the mild convulsions from wracking her small frame. Lard Nar knew a great deal about her, in terms of the information that the Resistance had compiled. Until she'd switched sides, Invader Tenn had been classified as a Level 5 threat (color-coding the system had proved useless to the Zuma, who were color-blind, and the Yanguri, who only saw in night-vision). She would have, if it had not been for an incredibly fortunate postal error, decimated Meekrob, the only race left with the technological capability to stand against Irk. She was by no means innocent and if she decided to turn her back one day, she could effortlessly destroy everything. She was a warrior, after all, born and bred for battle. He knew all this, and yet, he was kneeling in what he was certain was her blood trying to save her life. The convulsions were becoming more rapid and he wondered if the pain might be sending her into shock. It crossed his mind somewhere that this must have been what a good day was probably like for Red and Purple. He was still surprised at how that thought made his stomach lurch.

"Tenn… do you want to stop and catch your breath? You don't look,"

The trembling Irken grabbed the Captain's wrist and held it in place with impressive force. She made two failed attempts to speak before she actually managed to get words out. "I can take it."

The ferocity in her eyes was unlike anything the Vortian had ever seen. Her body wanted to shut down, her Pak was straining itself to support her vital organs, and she was literally having her flesh seared after being cut open, and she would not give up. The chemicals he'd given her had helped, but they'd only taken the edge off. She started hacking and gagging, turning her head to one side (courteously making sure it was not in the direction of her Captain) and unceremoniously vomited. Lard Nar would have been the slightest bit nauseated by this under normal circumstances, but as it stood, his mind could only interpret the action in the context of, ' _she's in so much pain, she's throwing up'_.

"Just breathe, all right? I know it hurts, you don't have to hold it in."

"I… c-can't be… weak."

"All of that is bullshit, Tenn. You _know_ it's bullshit. It's just you and me down here, you can cry and scream all you want and no one will ever know about it, I promise."

" _I'll_ know."

"What would Shloonktapooxis say to that? He'd say that you were being crazy and make you watch angsty motion-captures until you finally broke down, wouldn't he? Then he'd get you some ice cream, make you laugh, and you'd feel better, right?" He was pleased to see a mutual acknowledgement, "If you don't let it out, you'll short your Pak. That's not responsible _or_ brave. That's proud and stupid, and I know you're better than that, Soldier."

She couldn't say whether it was the pain, the fact that she had to unwillingly relinquish control, or the compliment from Lard Nar that made her cry. Perhaps it was everything breaching that threshold Red talked about. She lost control of herself for a moment, and with it, she also lost the pain.

"All we've got to do is bandage you up. Do yourself a favor and keep your eyes shut, that scar tissue is pretty raw."

Slightly dazed, she slowly came back to reality while Lard Nar adhered the Flesh-Graft and shifted her to an upright position. She assisted with the gauze and accepted the cold pack wrapped in a stretch bandage, which she then wrapped around her torso with another one until it stayed in place.

Lard Nar addressed Purple through his COM. "It's done, we're about to leave."

"Take the kit with you. If it's possible, carry her on your back. I know it won't make jumping any easier, so you'll probably have to stack some things to climb on, but it'll make running much faster."

"You're not too old for jumping, are you 'Nar?" Red teased.

" _You_ should talk." He grunted, already halfway into the room above the storage closet.

"What are you talking about?"

"Sweetheart," Purple warned.

"Come on, he _knows_ I jump your bones all the time." Red replied with faux innocence.

"I'm going to start smacking you."

"Kinky."

Purple's response was a death glare that even Lard Nar could swear he could hear through the COM.

"What? I'm not judging you, Pur. It's a little unexpected, but so were the handcuffs and we both know how _those_ turned out."

Lard Nar looked sufficiently disturbed. "…I hate you."

"Right now, you're making me contemplate a gag."

"Ouch. That was mean." Red pouted.

Purple rolled his eyes. "How's it coming 'Nar?"

"Almost there, no thanks to either of you."

"Hey!"

"Don't you 'hey' me, you're just as bad as Red. I swear, it's like listening to an old, married couple – only I can't figure out which of you is the wife!" The Vortian replied, stacking a crate on top of a desk.

" _He's_ the wife." Red answered.

"Excuse me, _you're_ the wife."

" _You_ are definitely the wife."

"Oh, but I'm a _good_ wife."

"I'm sure you are. Now what are we supposed to do when we get out of here?" Tenn asked as she and Lard Nar ran down a hallway.

"All right. You've only got three more floors. Shloonktapooxis, on my mark, I want you to pick them up as quick as you can. By that, I mean I want you to have the airlock open _before_ and don't even touch down. As soon as that airlock door closes, you follow the coordinates Red gave you. A medical team will meet you in the hangar once you land the cruiser. Everybody clear?"

"Yes."

"Got it."

"AWESOME."

"Good."

Purple took a deep breath and relaxed, temporarily muting his COM and looking directly at his partner.

"What?"

"I am _so_ not the wife."

Red rolled his eyes. "Whatever makes you happy, Sweetie."

"If we _were_ an old, married couple, I'd technically be your spouse."

"Details." The red-eyed Irken dismissed with a dramatic wave of his hand.

"And _that_ was, by far, _the most_ feminine thing either of us have _ever_ done."

"So you're saying _I'm_ the wife now?" Red asked skeptically.

"Unless you stop insisting _I am_." Purple grinned.

"What _should_ I call you, then?"

"Well, I suppose 'significant other' would be the proper term. 'Boyfriend' is appropriate, too. It all depends."

"You've never been a fan of 'lover'."

Purple cringed slightly. "There's nothing _wrong_ with it… it just feels a little tacky sometimes."

"Tacky?" Red cocked an antenna in skepticism.

"What?"

"You are _so_ the wife."

He folded his arms. "I neither cook nor clean, nor share any domestic responsibilities or tasks associated with a married female."

"Now _that's_ a lie if I ever heard one."

"Oh really? Name one thing."

"I'd love to give you a _list_ , Sweetheart, but unfortunately, you threatened to gag me if I discussed things of that nature."

Purple was silent for a moment, "You're shameless."

"Yep." Red grinned. "And you're stuck as my life-mate. How much does _that_ suck for you?"

"Quite a bit, but don't worry, it's the enjoyable kind."

"And _I'm_ shameless?"

"Well, considering every word out of your mouth is an innuendo, I," Purple paused and caught his partner's eyes, "…what was it you said a minute ago?"

Red retraced the conversation in his mind and his eyes went wide, flooded with disbelief. "… I, um… wow, that came out kinda suddenly, didn't it?" He feigned a laugh, failing miserably.

"Maybe we should talk about this later." Purple suggested, letting Red off the hook and giving him some time to think, "Mission's not finished yet."

Red nodded vigorously. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good." He said, standing abruptly and quickly returning to his station.

Purple sighed and switched his COM on, "Shloonktapooxis, head in. 'Nar, you had better be ready to run like hell."

"Running like hell, Sir." Tenn replied.

"Airlock open, and HERE WE GO! WOOOHOO!"

Purple jumped a little at the unanticipated loudness of Shloonktapooxis's exclamation. He shook his head and sighed, making a note in his agenda to switch the Second-in-Command to decaf.

Red's computer began beeping furiously, and the Irken responded with the clicking of various buttons on his console.

"Shloonktapooxis… you might want to hurry…."

"That's it, _I'm_ driving." Lard Nar said.

"YES SIR!"

"It doesn't look good, 'Nar… we're going to have to jump to Hyperspace if we want to get out of this mess."

"Why?"

"Because there's another power spike in the reactor core, and we can't afford to take any chances."

"Engaging boosters. ETA two minutes."

"Cruiser Team, in positions. They should be docking in two minutes and counting. Be prepared for immediate shift into Hyperspace." Red addressed the other four ships, "All ships, engage jump engines and prepare to enter Hyperspace. Once you receive the coordinates I'm transmitting, depart immediately. All ships will rendezvous at those _exact_ coordinates."

"Stealth Cruiser, beginning descent."

"Jump engines, online, powering up."

"Cruiser is safely docked."

"All right. Cruiser Team, we're waiting on you."

"Cruiser is secured."

"Good. Jumping to Hyperspace in five…"

"Wait," Lard Nar began, "since when do we have a Hyperdrive?"

"Since I noticed you didn't. And, here we go."

The vessel burst into Hyperspace only moments before the planet below burst into a blinding ball of light.

 

Red just sighed in his seat, feeling Purple's presence behind him.

"…I keep feeling like we shouldn't have survived that."

"But we did." The purple-eyed Irken replied, placing a kiss to the other's temple, "And you were amazing."

"Yeah, I _was_ pretty good."

Purple just rolled his eyes with a smile.

"How's Tenn doing?"

"Doctor says she'll pull through. It's a good thing we're headed for Malterra. She had some bleeding and apparently the scarring is really bad, even with the Flesh Graft… but there's only so much you can do with the level of organitechnology in a Biostabilizer Kit."

"Looks like all those years of patching each other up finally paid off, eh?"

"It's cheaper than any medical school in the galaxy."

"Got that right."

Purple let out a sigh, "I don't know about you, but I've had all the excitement I can handle for one day. What do you say we go back to our quarters and rest until we rendezvous?"

"I think that's brilliant." Red pressed a button on his console and hailed Lard Nar's COM. "Hey, Captain, if everything's all right, Purple and I are gonna take a break."

"Well, seeing as you're both the main reasons we're alive right now, I suppose you've earned it."

"We'll be in our quarters if you need anything."

"Before this conversation veers into unsavory territory, you both had better get moving… unless you want to help conduct the refugee census in the cargo bay."

"Yes, Sir!" Red mock-saluted before he disconnected the communication. He looked to the other with a contented smile before leaving the main deck.

* * *

 

Lard Nar cradled his head in his hands amid the clamoring and general calamity happening in the cargo bay. He'd anticipated something like this, but there was always a difference between what you expect will occur and how it actually becomes manifest in reality. He had learned that lesson today and he was not very likely to forget it anytime soon, and he idly wondered in the back of his mind if maybe the disorder and confusion around him were meant to serve as a cosmic re-enforcement.

"You all right?" Spleenk asked with concern, noticing the obvious distress and fatigue the Vortian displayed.

"What's wrong, Captain?" Shloonktapooxis asked in an unusually chipper voice. Lard Nar thought maybe his current state of mind had made his first mate sound so happy.

"It's a madhouse down here. There's no way to control them. I don't know what to do." He sighed exasperatedly.

"Well, I thought…" Spleenk began, and then abruptly stopped.

"What?"

"Nah, never mind. It's stupid anyway."

"You don't know that." Lard Nar said.

"Yeah!" Shloonktapooxis added, "We'll _tell_ you if it's stupid or not!"

If nothing else could be said for him, one could not deny that Shloonktapooxis was blunt.

Spleenk sighed, "I thought maybe since we wanted to get everyone settled, we could escort maybe fifty people into the mess hall, another fifty to the showers, get another fifty set up with living provisions, and you know, maybe rotate everyone… but like, station people at the door to the cargo hold to get everyone's basic information so they can't leave the room until they've been documented. But it's probably dumb…"

"No, Spleenk… that's… that's actually the best idea you've ever had."

"I like it!" Shloonktapooxis affirmed.

"Would you like to take charge?" Lard Nar asked.

"…I couldn't, I'm not…"

" _Yes_ , you are. This was _your_ idea, and you're capable of making it work. You have the entire ship's resources at your disposal. Anyone gives you trouble, just call me on the COM. I'll set them straight."

Spleenk smiled, "Thanks, 'Nar."

* * *

"I'm so proud of what you did today." Purple said, wrapping his arms around his partner.

Red smiled and laughed, "You weren't half bad, yourself."

"Overall, I think it was a fairly impressive effort."

"True. But I couldn't have done it without you." Red replied seriously, catching the other's eye, "Tenn's alive thanks to you."

"Yeah, but if you hadn't been there to buy her the time, I wouldn't have made any difference."

"Well the extra time wouldn't have meant a thing if we couldn't find a way out for her. I never could have done what you did."

"And I couldn't have done what you did either, Baby."

"We make a pretty good team, don't we?"

"Yeah," Purple smiled, "we do."

"…You know, I meant what I said earlier."

"Red, if you're not ready, I don't want to make you feel like you've got to say it. I want you to mean the words when you say them."

Red rolled over and looked seriously into the other Irken's face, "I love you. I've loved you for longer than I can remember, maybe even since the day I met you."

"You're sure you want this?" Purple asked seriously, "There's no going back once you say 'yes'."

"There's nothing to go back _to_. Without you, I'm nothing."

"If that's the case, I'll spend my life with you, if you'll have me."

"Yes. I'd like that very much."

* * *

 

"Uh, Master… are you even watching this anymore?" The Computer asked, "This is the sixth time they're replaying it. From the beginning." The boredom and dissatisfaction in its mechanical tone was not hard to interpret.

Zim stirred, shaking himself from that dreamlike trance he couldn't help but keep falling into. "No. No, that'll be all for now, Computer."

With a sigh and a muttered string of irritated words, the Computer switched its screen off and went into 'sleep' mode. The room felt vast and dark and eerily quiet but that was okay.

Zim was growing kind of used to that.

* * *

"…Hey Cyanine," His Co-Tallest began. They had been standing together on a balcony overlooking the Great Hall where various janitorial drones were bustling about, scurrying back and forth in an effort to clean up after the days festivities. "Have you heard some of the things people have been saying lately?"

"About what? Us?"

"No. …About _them_."

"You know, this conversation would go a lot smoother if you stopped using general pronouns and vague allusions."

Phthalo sighed, "Fine. I just didn't want to get in trouble. You know how they are."

"Is this the same 'they' you were just talking about?"

"No! Irk, you're _impossible_!"

"I wouldn't say _impossible_ … just a bit unlikely."

Phthalo's arms fell to his sides in an exasperated gesture. "Are you always like this?"

"Like what?"

"Well, that answers my question."

"Which question?!"

"…Never mind."

"Has anyone ever told you that you make _no_ sense, whatsoever?" A puzzled Cyanine asked.

" _Me_?! I don't make sense?! Come on, Cy." Phthalo replied.

"Hey, I'm not the one who expects people to know what I'm talking about via _telepathy_ or something."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"' _They'_ aren't ' _them'_? I don't even think that's proper grammar."

"I was talking about two different things."

Cyanine just sat there staring at his counterpart, hopelessly confused.

"I meant to ask if you'd heard any of the rumors going around about the former Tallest. I didn't want to be specific, because we had to issue that order declaring it treason to talk about them."

"Ah. I see. Fair enough. I've heard some things here and there."

"What kind of things?"

Cyanine shot his partner a sly expression, "Gossip whore."

"I don't care about _gossip_ ," He said, "I just thought… well, I've heard some interesting things and I was just curious if there might be any truth to them. …I didn't really know what else to talk about… I don't know anything about you."

"We've only just met."

"I know."

A short silence passed between them before Phthalo spoke again, "Cy… does it make me a terrible person if I go through with what they want us to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to be a part of this… I don't want to be responsible for sending innocent people to die, but… is it wrong that I want to lie to myself and pretend I don't know anything?"

"…I don't know."

"How do you feel about it?"

"I've… I've been trying not to think about it, honestly. As much as I hate it, and as awful as it is, I don't think I can really handle the responsibility of it."

"It wasn't a choice."

Cyanine sighed, "It'll get easier."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Everything has a price, Phthalo."

"What's the going price for freedom these days?"

"More than we can afford."

"That's what I thought."

* * *

Lard Nar had to admit, he'd been just a little worried about Spleenk's ability to handle the coordination of such a large effort, but he'd done it, and the Vortian could not deny the proud smile it put on his face. He stepped into the mess hall and took a panoramic glance of the situation. Refugees were eating, engaged in conversation and from what he could tell, no one was complaining. He saw some faces he remembered and said 'hello' to several casual acquaintances before he caught sight of a _very_ recognizable someone standing up from the table. The Captain just stood there, as if his feet had somehow sprung roots running deep underneath the floorboards with an expression of complete shock on his face. Judging by the look of the former prisoner, at least the feeling was mutual.

When he was able to finally stop staring, Lard Nar could only watch as a Vortian with purple skin wearing the number 777 on his shirt approached him.

"Fancy meeting you here." Said the former prisoner.

So many thoughts were running through the Captain's head, he thought it might actually explode. "Owiaiin…"

"Haven't forgotten me yet, then?"

Lard Nar entertained several responses before settling with something neutral. "I've got a good memory."

"You always did." 777 replied. "I suppose I owe you one; you _did_ save my life."

"You don't owe me _anything_ – really, it's all right."

Owiaiin laughed, "Not like _that_." He shook his head with a grin, "Though I have to say, I wouldn't object. I meant something small. Maybe a drink, or dinner."

"I appreciate the offer, I really do, but it's never been just 'a drink or dinner' with you."

The other grinned. "Well, that's not entirely my fault, you know."

"Yes, unfortunately, I do."

"Unfortunate? I don't exactly remember you complaining."

"Well the aftermath was certainly an earful."

"Still blame me, then?"

"You can't exactly say it was _my_ decision."

"That's true. But for what it's worth, I actually have missed you."

"I won't pretend I don't feel somewhat vindicated about that."

"All things considered," he said, "I'm in no place to feel slighted."

"…Well, it was nice to see you again, I've, uh, got to get going though… Captain-y things to do, and all."

"Yeah, you too. If you do have a chance, though… I would really like to catch up with you sometime."

"Um… okay, yeah, I'll get back to you on that." Lard Nar replied calmly, as he backed out of the room. Once the door closed behind him, the panic he'd been holding in finally took over and he bolted in the direction of his quarters. _This_ was the last thing he needed, especially after the day he'd had. His body was desperate for sleep but his brain was running in circles at a thousand miles a minute.

* * *

**Endnotes:** In the original draft of this chapter, Tenn _did_ actually die, and the fifth ship never made it off Vort. Everything veered into territory too dark and angsty even for me, so then I opted to keep the innocent refugees alive. Tenn's death ended up derailing the story and undoing all of the painstaking character development I'd already established, so I had to re-think what I was going to do with it. I'm all for making my characters endure awful, traumatic things, but to push Red and Purple to the point where they were on the brink of breaking up was a bit _too_ traumatic. I decided to go the opposite route instead, and give them a bit of happiness. For a while.

Woo, Lard Nar and 777… bet you didn't see _that_ coming!

**Allusions and References:**

_(for the record, I watched all of_ Babylon 5 _,_ Farscape _,_ Doctor Who (the "new" series) _,_ and Torchwood _all in 3 months… so there's a bit of extra influence in this one)_

" **the best laid plans of mice and men"** … is a quote from John Steinbeck's _Of Mice and Men_ and a poem by Robert Burns

" **God is dead"** … Friedrich Nietzsche (20th century German philosopher)

The bit about **nothing good or bad, but thinking that makes it so** … is a reference to Shakespeare's _Hamlet_

The **missile turning into a bowl of petunias** … came right out of Douglas Adams's _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_

**The promise of cake and grief counseling** … is a reference to the videogame _Portal._

"… **how to fight, and how to die"** … is a direct quote from the Series 4 _Doctor Who_ episode " _The Doctor's Daughter"_

**Tortured Space** … is a territory from _Farscape_

" **The right word in the right place at the right time"** … is from a lot of places, but I took it from _Doctor Who_

The **sarcastic, oversized cartoon rabbit, bird-thing, and coyote** are Bugs Bunny, Roadrunner, and Wile E. Coyote

The **honesty through paranoia** theory is from _Clerks._

" **free in all the ways that he could never be"** … is a bit of a reference to _Fight Club_

" **burden being right so often"** … is from Joss Whedon's _Firefly_

**Icarus** … Figure in Greek mythology who was given wings made of wax by his father (one of the gods), and they melted when he flew too close to the sun. In nearly every science fiction show, there's always a ship called _Icarus_ and something awful _always_ happens to it.

" **Irkwatch** " is a reference to Babylon 5's _Nightwatch_ , which was a reference to Orwell's "Ministry of Peace" idea.

" **brain the size of a planet"** … is another _Hitchhiker's Guide_ reference.

**Pulse weapons** … are from the _Farscape_ universe.

the **wife argument** was taken straight out of the Series 2 _Torchwood_ episode, _"Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang"_

**without you i'm nothing ...** is the title of a Placebo song

I really am sorry about how late this chapter is. So much happened and everything got away from me. I'm going to try to post more, shorter chapters instead of massive installments shy of 70 pages every six months or so. It definitely won't take me this long to do the next one. I probably lost my poor audience. For those of you still with me, thank you so incredibly much.

This chapter was particularly difficult to write, so any feedback at all is appreciated, even just a few words. It's really nice to hear that people are enjoying your work, and how to improve if it's lacking.


	6. Chapter 6

This chapter (and the next, since it's a bit of a two-parter) is for Justin, who is just absolutely extraordinary.

I also want to thank little girl-GROWN UP for her unwavering support and enthusiasm.

And every single one of my readers.

\- 6 -

Strange. That was the only word he could think of to describe this place. He'd been to hundreds, maybe thousands of planets in dozens of various galaxies throughout the universe, and "strange" was the word he kept coming back to. The native inhabitants of this particular world were incredibly devolved creatures. He had made sure to read through what little data they had managed to compile from various reports, but it was nothing of any particular use or practical value.

He sighed. He hoped he would complete his mission that day and be on his way back home by nightfall. He had also been supplied with one of the newest Voot models, fully equipped with a quantum-drive. Hyperspace travel had been perfected for quite a while now, but Quantumspace had only been a theory… he wasn't even aware they'd been able to understand the technology – let alone harness it. The ship's navigation system was the most incredible he'd ever seen. Wormhole travel _was_ possible, but it involved tremendous risk. There was no way to discern which wormhole lead where, and they were such fussy things to start with. This new navigation system had the ability to _track_ wormholes and calculate a safe, optimal route. These two technological advances shortened the trip immensely, and he was grateful for that.

Skooge kicked a stray rock along with him as he continued down the length of the sidewalk. This planet, it seemed, was full of countless types of terrain. It had been excavated and constructed in a rather peculiar fashion. The natives also had rather strange forms of transportation. By far, the most common of these was what they referred to as a "car". This strangely designed vehicle rolled around on the planet's surface only to get stuck behind another where it would start to make loud, angry noises for several hours. It seemed quite counterproductive, but from what he had seen of the planet so far, productivity seemed to be the _least_ of its shortcomings.

He came to an unexpected halt in the middle of the path, immediately sensing a sudden change in his proximity. He slowly, cautiously checked for a sign that he'd been followed, or perhaps to catch someone watching him, but the portly little Invader found no trace at all. He shrugged and began moving again, a much slower stride than usual, still unable to shake the feeling that he'd somehow become the target of _something_. He hoped it wasn't whatever had killed Zim, because if that was the case, he might as well save himself the struggle and surrender now.

He hoped he was getting close because,

The Invader let out a panicked scream and a strand of several choice Irken curses as he felt himself being tackled into the ground, slamming hard into the pavement. He registered the sensation of metal cuffs tight around his wrists and the sound of cackling, maniacal laughter.

"Ha! Today is the day I'll finally beat you, Zim! Hahaha!" Said whoever still had the Irken pinned to the concrete.

"What are you talking about? Who _are_ you? _I'm not Zim_!"

"No, but you _are_ Irken – I can see through your disguise! You think one of those Irken Holo-Projectors will fool me?! Once I show Zim I've got you, he'll be _forced_ to surrender to my terms!"

"…Um, when was the last time you saw him… what's your name?" The perplexed alien asked, trying to turn himself enough to see his assailant.

"I'm Dib," he said, with a certain superiority in his voice, "and you?"

"Invader Skooge."

"Tell me, Skooge, what was Zim's evil plan _this_ time? I bet you were coming here to help him with it, weren't you? Well, we'll see how _evil_ he feels when he finds out I'm holding you prisoner!"

The child's victorious laughter was terrifying, yet simultaneously redundant. "You have no idea about _anything_ that's happened, do you?"

Dib quieted down curiously, "What do you mean?"

"Zim's dead. I'm just here to confirm it."

"…I, but…he…" Dib felt like he was falling a thousand stories a second and let out an unconscious whimper.

"The Tallest… well, the _old_ Tallest, had turned against the Empire," he said, with overwhelming disgust in his voice, "the enemies they were conspiring with turned on them, and then murdered them. Not too long after that, Zim's Pak was deactivated. Rumor is, he's killed himself." There was the barest hint of wistfulness in the last part.

Dib tried to speak, but for a moment, the boy couldn't find his voice. "He, he wouldn't… no way Zim kills himself. No. He wouldn't know how to die if he _tried_!" Dib insisted.

"We've all got self-destruct buttons. Incase we become compromised."

" _Self-destruct buttons?!"_ Dib shouted, bordering on hysteria, "Why would _anyone_ give _Zim_ a self-destruct button – don't they know, he… he just…"

Skooge was about to speak when Dib burst into a sprint just as the Irken opened his mouth, leaving the stout little alien trailing far behind him.

He didn't even think about the garden gnomes until he made it to the front door without incident. They sat in the same place they always had, only now, the almost inaudible buzzing they used to make was gone. They'd been turned off.

Zim _never_ turned his security off.

Dib felt his heart beat just a little bit faster and tried to ignore the unpleasant feeling in his stomach as he knocked on the door, pounding his fist hard against the pink surface.

"Zim! _Come on_ , open the door!" He didn't know why he was so desperate to prove that his nemesis was still alive, but at the moment, his instincts were at the helm and he obeyed. "Your gnomes are _off_ and I'm gonna destroy your base and the rest of your planet!" He tried, hoping that _something_ would persuade his alien enemy to open the door. Finally, Dib twisted the doorknob and effortlessly pushed it open.

The base was eerily quiet. Even the TV was off and there was no sign of GIR. After frantically searching the main room, he held his breath and if he strained, he found himself able to hear the familiar sound of little robot feet. They weren't running or jumping or dancing, though. It sounded almost as if they were uncharacteristically lethargic and dragging against the floor.

"GIR?" Dib called.

The aforementioned SIR unit quickly zipped in to the room and smiled, "Big Head Boy!" He shouted, latching on to the side of Dib's disproportionately large head in an attempt to hug it.

"Thanks, GIR, that's great. Is Zim all right? He hasn't been to school in like four days, and I didn't see him all weekend."

GIR released Dib and his he hung his head with a sad expression.

"…What, GIR? Is he here? Can I talk to him?"

"Master don't really talk no more. He ain't movin' neither."

Dib grabbed the robot's shoulders in a panic, "What floor is he on?!" Once GIR had answered, Dib bolted to the nearest secret elevator he knew of and addressed the Computer, instructing it to take him to Zim. As usual, the Computer mumbled about not getting any respect, and the elevator began its descent.

Dib followed the instructions GIR had given, inwardly praying he hadn't directed him to another dimension instead. This _was_ GIR, of course, and stranger things had happened. Dib was on the verge of wondering what that statement said about his life, but once he caught sight of the green alien he'd fought against for the last three years slumped over in his chair, the only thought in Dib's mind was " _no_ ". Without a moment's hesitation, he gripped the other's shoulders and shouted for him to wake up.

Zim felt himself being shaken and heard a loud, annoying voice thundering in his skull. The Irken jolted awake and shouted instinctually in response, prolonging the sound until he blinked the fog out of his eyes and understood where he was and who he was with.

Zim stopped shouting and swatted Dib's arms away, "What was _that_ for, you hideous dirt-child?!"

"I thought you were _dead_! That other Irken," he said, "told me you killed yourself! Or that's what everyone thinks."

"What 'other Irken'?!" Zim shouted, "You will tell Zim! Zim demands to know!"

Dib instinctively withdrew as Zim invaded his personal space, "He said his name was Skooge… I think."

Zim laughed. "That's hilarious. Getting rid of two problems at once, I guess. Never thought I'd say it but, poor Skooge. I must have been at least four times worse than he is…" he chuckled to himself humorlessly, "no wonder more people tuned in to my reports than _Irken Idol_."

"What are you talking about, Zim? What's going on, you're acting," Dib paused a moment, "your planet has a show called _Irken Idol_?"

"Weird similarity. Now get out."

"I haven't seen you in almost a _week_! I know you're planning _something_ , Zim, and I'm not leaving until I find out what it is!"

Zim laughed in a way that was slightly unsettling to Dib. "Planning something. _Planning_ something? I've taken down the defenses, the labs are empty, and I haven't left this room in days."

Dib opened his mouth, but Zim cut him off, "Zim is in no mood for another one of your self-righteous 'save-the-Earth' speeches!"

Zim became more aggressive, narrowing his eyes and invading the other's space again, "What would you do, Stink-Beast, if you were betrayed by your leaders and found out everything was a lie, and then asked by those same leaders to save the universe from something so much worse? To not even be able to hate them for what they've done, because you can't even start to imagine what their suffering has been like? Ugh!" He clutched his head in his hands, "I can't even laugh when GIR dances to the video of that ridiculously awkward, orange-haired human-filth-creature anymore! It was all fine at first, but without the receptors I feel _everything_ and _I hate it_! Now _get out of my base!_ "

Dib looked at the hysterical alien in pure confusion. "What are you _talking_ about, Zim?"

"Oh, you haven't heard?" He asked congenially, "I'm the last hope for the universe." The alien laughed, "I highly recommend cyanide."

"…You're so much weirder than usual…"

"I have the urge to destroy you right now, Dib-stink." He said, in the same tone one might use to talk about the weather, "However, I think that my… _conscience_ … might take issue with that."

"When did _you_ grow a conscience?" Dib asked with distain-laden skepticism.

"…What day is it?"

"Tuesday."

"About six days ago, then."

Dib's expression indicated that he obviously did not believe his nemesis.

"Now leave me alone."

"What's your problem?"

"Where would you like Zim to start?"

The boy sighed angrily and pointed dramatically at his foe, "Fine, Zim, have it your way! But I've still got your accomplice and he's _my_ prisoner, and I'll find out what you're planning, one way or another!"

"Nonsense! Zim has no accomplice!"

"You lie!" Dib shouted.

They both paused for a moment.

"Wow… I sounded like you for a minute there." Dib smiled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Be gone, Dib-Monkey. Zim has things to do. Such things!" He lied, with half the usual amount of enthusiasm.

Dib clearly did not notice, "So you _are_ planning something!"

Zim just shook his head and returned to his chair, "Idiotic Meat-Child…"

"You've forgotten that _I_ have control of your friend's ship. And _this_ one doesn't have a damaged communication board. I'll be able to download secret information on your planet and tell your government you _failed_!"

Zim's head snapped to attention. "No! You need to tell Skooge I'm dead. Tell him I self-destructed and there's nothing left."

"…Why?"

"Stupid human! If Irk finds out I'm alive, they won't bother to come for me, they'll just blow up the whole planet! This galaxy is the _oldest_ in the quadrant, so there's no reason they'd go out of their way to annihilate it if they had no reason! It took me six months to get here with a hyperdrive… I don't know how Skooge could've gotten here this quickly. They'll have no reason to bother you as long as I'm dead. If you care about your pathetic little planet _half_ as much as you say, you'll listen to Zim!"

"I don't understand, you're not making sense!"

Zim grabbed the human boy by the fabric of his trench coat. "Listen to me, evolutionarily-stunted ape-brained child. There's more going on than you could _ever_ imagine with that puny mind of yours! You think stopping me will save your world, don't you? I've got news for you, Dib-Beast, if you want to do your alien autopsy so badly, you should have just asked to play 'doctor'. It'll save me a whole lot of hell in the long run. You could cut me open fully conscious and you'd be doing _me_ a favor because when They come for you, and They _will_ , you'll wish you were fortunate enough to die as peacefully as I did!"

"…Is he here to take over your mission?!"

The alien appeared drained and exhausted, his skin flushed and his breathing was noticeably labored. Dib saw the light playing off Zim's large, pink eyes in a way he'd never expected, and had previously assumed impossible. His enemy seemed to be so unbearably frustrated and hopelessly consumed with stress, for a moment, Dib thought the other might cry. He stared at his shoes, feeling somewhat guilty for having pushed Zim so far. At the very least, enemies should have respect for each other. There was nothing admirable about defeating a helpless foe.

"I've seen what goes on inside your disturbingly large head, Dib; all those stupid human desires of fame and glory that you dream about. You really believe that it's because you want to save people. The truth of it is you don't care about _saving_ anyone. You just want them to love you. You've done nothing but rant for the last _three years_ about 'saving the human race', but the both of us have really wanted the same thing. You may have wanted to be loved while I would have preferred to be feared, but we _both_ wanted to be respected and obeyed. Two sides of the same fucked up coin. You're no hero."

" _You're_ going to tell _me_ about heroic?! What do _you_ know about being a good guy?!" The child yelled incredulously.

Zim's gaze never faltered for a second under Dib's angry glare. "Heroes are fucking stupid, Dib. Heroes put themselves through _hell_ for the sake of someone else. Heroes are always ready to risk anything for what they believe. They're insane and they're stupid because they suffer and they never complain. You humans can't _begin_ to fathom what it takes. Read this, you filthy pig-brained, large-headed child!" he said, shoving the message-screen that had been tormenting him in the boy's face, "Read it, and then tell me you're a hero!"

Dib was almost frightened to oblige Zim's request because of the sheer intensity behind the alien's words. He'd never let Zim win before, and he wasn't going to let _that_ change so he spared his enemy an indignant glance before snatching the message out of his hands. Zim's idea of _everything_ was so completely backward that Dib doubted he'd even be able to make any sense of whatever had gotten Zim so riled.

It took the boy a long moment to process everything the relatively short and simple message contained. Once the overwhelming part of the sickness in his stomach wore off, the first thing that settled in was the feeling of defeat. The words not only proved Zim's efforts pointless, but Dib's own as well. A joke they'd both fallen for, unaware that in doing so, they'd become the punchline. If Zim's whole world was based on lie, so was Dib's (seeing as most of the boy's world was focused solely on the stranded Irken). He'd wasted three years chasing Zim, three years living under the delusion that he'd found a reason to exist. Dib hadn't taken into account until now, how much of his life really revolved around that stupid creature.

He immediately felt foolish over his self-indulgent musings when he thought about what these revelations meant to Zim, and anger quickly occupied what had previously been self-pity. If nothing else, Zim was devoted to Irk and he'd been willing to do anything for the good of his race. He'd never looked at the alien's motivations from such a perspective before, but he could hardly help himself from doing so under the circumstances. He had spent so much time and effort, only to be mocked by the people he would have given his life for.

He shivered at the thought, though, of the sheer amount of pain it must have taken to cause his leaders to change their personalities so drastically. It was clear that they loved each other in a way that Dib didn't think (and on a certain level, hoped, perhaps) he would ever be able to fully understand, but if they hadn't broken down and given into anger and madness after what had been described in the message, just _how much_ had it taken? How badly had they been physically and emotionally damaged before they found themselves content to _cause_ the kind of suffering they had endured? When Dib thought about that, he felt so very small and insignificant. He'd called them 'scum', to their faces, once. What a pretentious little ignorant child he'd been.

He didn't know what to say. From the look on the alien's face, it didn't seem like Zim was having any more success than himself at the moment.

"… Truce?"

Zim appeared defensive and somewhat perplexed. "What?"

"A truce," he repeated, "a ceasefire, a non-aggression pact."

"Zim will NEVER SURRENDER to you, Earth-monkey! NEVER!"

Dib sighed, "It's _not_ a surrender! You aren't giving anything to me and I don't give anything to you. Nobody is 'giving up'… more like 'changing targets'. Look, Zim, there's nothing here for you. You've got a new mission. If you're not a threat, I've got nothing to do."

"Get to the point."

"Geez, you're cranky. Fine. What I'm trying to say is, I want to help."

"You want to _work with me?!_ " Zim asked incredulously, "I thought I was losing it but you, Dib-stink have just, as you humans say, 'gone off the deep end'. Or maybe _I_ really havefinally lost it… maybe it's all finally gotten to be too much, maybe this is what a system failure feels like, hey Computer!"

"What now?"

"Am I experiencing a system failure?"

"How should I know? Your Pak controls all that, I just run the base and get ignored."

"Well, thanks anyway. You're dismissed."

"Zim… are you okay?"

"Not in even the most remote sense of the word."

"Think of it this way," Dib said, "your leaders _know_ this is a huge task, right? That's why they're working with that resistance group and why they've asked for your help. They know how huge this is going to be. If they thought that one person was going to be enough to handle it, they'd have done it themselves. I don't think they expect you to take on responsibility for _everything_. I think you should take whatever help you can get."

Zim crossed his arms and muttered, "Zim does not care what you think."

"Admit it, Zim. Just look at what this is doing to you!"

"Why are you so eager to help me?" He asked suspiciously.

Dib sighed, glancing around awkwardly, "You're acting different… this whole this _really_ has you shaken up, and everything that guy wrote… well, you wouldn't be acting like this if it was just a joke. You wouldn't be putting on an act to fool GIR if you wanted to fool me."

"That does not explain why you _care_."

"…I don't know who the bad guys are anymore."

"Zim is certainly no 'good guy'!"

Dib sighed, rolling his eyes out of habit.

"Zim is _still_ evil! So very evil and full of _goo_!"

"…Yeeeeah. That's special, Zim. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but saving the universe is _not_ evil, neither is forgiving people who've done you wrong, or offering help to people who need it."

"Zim will never be _good_."

"What are you, then?"

"I'M WAFFLES!" Shouted the little metal robot as he sped into the room, ran in a circle, and bolted right back out again.

Dib waited a moment, then continued speaking, "Look, Zim, if you want to save the universe, why not recruit somebody who's been preparing to do it their whole lives? The only time we've ever accomplished anything was when we worked together."

Zim pondered the child's words and grimaced. He did not want to concede to his enemy but it was true that Dib was dedicated to protecting the welfare of the universe. He was also (as much as Zim loathed to admit it) very capable, and more often than not, a suitable foil for Zim's schemes. The boy was one of the more intelligent of his species and had picked up a wealth of information in the last few years about various technologies, planets, and aliens, simply by hazard of keeping up with Zim. His father (despite thinking the boy insane) had limitless resources that could prove invaluable to his future endeavors.

The longer Zim pondered Dib's proposition, the more logical it seemed and though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he knew he would inevitably have to concede. "I will work with you, Dib, but that does not mean I have to like it."

"Great! So… what can I do to help?"

Zim sighed and cringed inwardly. This was going to be just as painful as he thought. Dib grasped the concept of the bigger picture, but he did not _understand_ it. He still very much saw things the way Zim always had: in relation to how they directly affected _him_. Zim took a brief moment to muse over that quiet revelation. It was true that after the removal of his receptors, the alien was an emotional powder-keg (strangely enough, Zim concluded that he actually preferred being the _literal_ alternative), but as odd as it was, he found himself able to think in a way he hadn't before. There was more than one potential option for every choice he was faced with. It had never been like that before. One thing had always flowed into the next and he never paused, never deliberated, never took more than the immediate aspects surrounding something into account.

He sighed again, "For starters, I need you to tell Skooge I'm dead. Make him believe it. I'm sure Irk plans to strand him here once he reports in. He'll probably head back here on his own once his ship shuts down, because as much as I'm sure they'd love to see him explode in a bloody mess, Skooge has a knack for surviving explosions. Surviving _anything,_ now that I think about it."

"Kind of like you, then?"

Zim almost smiled but all he managed was a faint nostalgic expression. "We _did_ grow up together. Only Skooge was actually a successful soldier."

"He'll make a good ally, then."

Zim sighed, "This isn't going to be that easy, Stink-Beast."

"Why not? …And since we're working together, could you stop with the 'Stink-Beast' and 'Dib-thing' and calling my head big?"

"Your head _is_ disproportionately larger than your body in comparison to the corresponding measurements of your fellow humanoids. It's a simple observation."

"I don't _have to_ do this, you know." He huffed, folding his arms.

"No, no… you don't have to. But you did ask. Besides, what else are you going to do with yourself? Waste your time chasing an alien who's not chasing you?"

Dib expression indicated he was not pleased, and Zim smiled for the first time in what felt like eons.

"You, Dib-Thing, I think I'm going to keep you around."

"Oh gee, I feel _so_ appreciated."

"You ought to. It's more than you get from your father, or that demonic sister of yours."

Dib frowned slightly, "…Yeah. There's that."

Zim sighed, "I never understood it before, you filthy human creatures all wound up in knots consumed with pointless, meaningless emotions day in and day out. It was a wonder to me at first, how creatures with such a frightening amount of potential energy could walk around without spontaneously exploding. All those chemical reactions going on simultaneously, all that stress and adrenaline and electricity exciting particles with nowhere to go inside such a fragile shell... it seemed impossible. A single one of you can explode with the force of five atomic bombs, but somehow, you don't. At one time I guess my people could… we _did_ balance it all… but now, after all this… after _feeling_ , it's… I don't know how you do it."

Dib wasn't sure what path the conversation had followed to land them here, and wasn't sure how to follow. "You still haven't explained why you're so… rational?" It felt weird to say, especially considering how little sense the creature was making, but Zim was actually behaving as if he was _listening_ to the human boy. The way he _spoke_ had even changed. His speech pattern was no longer rushed and nonsensical but more often than not, it was fully-formed and deliberate. Cautious, almost. So very _un-_ Zim.

"You read the message. I made the repairs."

"So… you took out those… things, in your Pak?"

"The receptors. Yes."

"And that means... you've got feelings?"

"Not _just_ feelings, I'm afraid." The alien replied, "Moral and ethical dilemmas, a conscience, and all the guilt the receptors blocked out. The extra thoughts and nagging curiosities, they're all there. All the time."

"I'm not saying this out of pity or kindness; you know I don't like you. And I'm not trying to sound condescending either, but I'm really, really sorry, Zim. I can't imagine what that's like."

Zim entertained the notion of hostility, but decided he was too tired and it wouldn't serve either of them any good. "I… _appreciate_ the social nicety, Dib-Beast." He cringed, trying to sound genuine.

"You're, uh, welcome… I guess. Well, I should probably get going and find Skooge, then."

"Might be a good idea."

"See, this isn't going to be so difficult. Just one thing at a time."

"Right. I mean, all we've got to do is save the universe from certain doom."

"Yeah, no big deal."

" _Hardly_. So, GIR made these muffins…"

"Oh? What flavor?"

"Either chocolate marble or motor oil."

Dib cringed. "I'll pass, thanks."

* * *

"Hey…" Came a hesitant voice and a soft knock from behind his door, "can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure, it's open."

Spleenk entered the Captain's private quarters to find him at his desk, reviewing papers through somewhat bleary eyes.

"Are you okay?" He said, closing the door behind him and taking a seat opposite Lard Nar.

"I'm fine. Why, what's the matter?"

"It's nothing… It's just, well… ah, forget it. I wanted to let you know the refugees are all sorted out. We've designated them to the cargo hold and we've got them on a meal schedule so the mess hall isn't overwhelmed. I also thought it might be good to limit the number of people who know about Red and Purple. There's less chance someone will slip."

"Good thinking."

"From the sound of it, though, I don't think those two would mind being sequestered to their quarters for a couple of days while the refugees wander about. But that would mean controlling their volume, and they don't seem too keen on that."

"Spleenk!"

"… Did you just _squeal_ , Lard Nar?" The four-armed-alien grinned.

"No! I, erm, I _emphatically stressed_."

"Uh-huh. Suuuure you did." Spleenk grinned.

Lard Nar sighed with a slightly frustrated edge, "Is there _anyone_ on this ship capable of tact or verbal restraint?"

Spleenk chuckled. "'Nar, you've got to relax a little. I wasn't even trying for innuendo that time; you really ought to consider soundproofing that room. Whoever lives next door must not sleep or have invested in serious sound-blocking technology."

"I'll have to give them the lecture… _again._ I feel like I'm dealing with a pair of children. Which sounds so disturbing out of context."

Spleenk looked at his Captain, "Come on, Nar. What are you gonna say to them, _'Purple, don't do the thing that makes Red scream'_ or _'Red, stop making Purple shout your name'_ … does that _sound_ like a serious request?"

"Well, not when you put it like that… but _still_ … just some courtesy would be appreciated."

"Then say it like _that_." Spleenk replied, grabbing a bright yellow stress ball with a smiley face off Lard Nar's desk, "They'll take you seriously out of respect."

"Pfft, _respect_?"

"Okay, I know you don't see it like this, but you're doing two things here that are unintentionally disrespectful – don't interrupt me yet, I _know_ you're not trying to and I swear I don't have a brain-worm."

Lard Nar just crossed his arms and grumbled.

"Firstly, you're putting yourself above them by restricting the boundaries of their relationship because you're telling them what they can and can't do. You know the zero-tolerance policy Irk has for intimacy of any kind. If you start giving them boundaries, they'll see it as a threat. They can't help that, it's an unconscious connection – like an input connected to the wrong output in their brains. Metaphorically speaking, of course. It's a natural side-effect of trauma, and you can't argue they haven't experienced _that_.

Second… you've got to remember that for how many years, even though the way every planet measures time is different, they had no other way of showing affection. They couldn't exactly give each other flowers and candy. Red doesn't drop those innuendos all the time because he's _just_ a pervert who likes to make you uncomfortable. I mean, there's no denying it's true to an extent, but _everyone_ likes a dirty joke, and I'm sure he'd be chasing you about with a water-pistol if his implications didn't bother you so much because that's just the way he is."

"So why does he do it, then?"

"Well, think about it. If the physical part of their relationship was, the only way he could really tell Purple that he loved him while they suffered so much hell…" Spleenk sighed, "when Red makes comments about how great the sex is, he's not talking about _just_ the way it feels. It's as much emotional as it is physical, and he's not trying to brag about how wonderful they are in bed, he's bragging about how wonderful they are _together_. I get the impression in his mind there's a strict distinction between 'great sex', 'sex', and 'bad sex'. You with me so far?"

Lard Nar nodded.

"Okay. So, like I was saying, 'bad sex' is obvious: no emotion and physically unsatisfying. 'Sex' is a more casual, ambivalent thing because when you listen to how he talks about their private lives, there's always a superlative involved. For him, 'great sex' is when you love someone so much that it becomes a means to show the other person how intimate and how deep that love is. The act itself isn't about the gratification of his own desires, but rather, how to satisfy his partner's; and to be perfectly honest, 'Nar, I've got to agree with that philosophy. Yeah, there are always going to be those times when you just want to have fun withit, but that's part of keeping the mutual desire alive in a long-term relationship.

I could be completely wrong on this, too. I don't know if Irken psychology is similar to Hedrarecticon psychology."

Lard Nar took a few extra moments to process everything Spleenk had just proposed, and could only come up with one question, "Where did all _that_ come from?"

Spleenk smiled and drew in a breath, "My mother was a psychiatrist."

" _Your_ mother?"

"I've had a panic disorder since I was a kid. She became a doctor as soon as I was diagnosed."

"…I didn't know. I'm sorry, Spleek…"

"Don't be," he said, genuinely smiling, "I'm not."

Lard Nar cocked his head and looked at his friend with a confused expression.

"She was really young when I born. She was always so smart and got good grades, but she was so ahead of everybody else that she was bored with classes and didn't have any reason to care. She got pregnant at the end of her last year of school and she never planned to pursue higher education; my dad ran off and she always told me the only thing he ever did right was use a contraceptive wrong because I gave her a reason to do something with her life. I was a pretty nervous kid… and my first day of sclhool didn't go so well. My mom and my foremother took me to the doctor that afternoon, and by the end of the day, my mom had started applying to Medical Schools."

"She became a doctor… just so she could understand you?"

Spleenk nodded. "It helped that my foremother was around to take care of me during the day, and since Mom was brilliant, the school paid for her education. I grew up around all that psychology, so I just kind of took most of it in."

"You've never told me about your family before." Lard Nar said.

A dark cloud fell over his expression, "There's nothing to talk about anymore." He stated plainly, "Let's just say I joined the resistance for a reason."

Lard Nar didn't even know where to begin, but he wanted to try. "Spleenk, I,"

"And before you start apologizing, because I _know_ you will," he said, effectively cutting off his Captain, "I don't mind them on board. I don't mind them _at all_. I haven't had much time to talk with them, but I _have_ watched them – not in a creepy way – I can't help being paranoid sometimes, but they seem like genuinely all-right people. You get along well with them, and I trust your judgment of character. And after hearing what they've been through… all I know is what you've told me and I'm _sure_ it's worse than that. It would be wrong of me to fault them for something they couldn't stop. If they hadn't given the order, the next Tallest would have."

"I don't know why you don't have more confidence in yourself, Spleenk. You're so smart and capable, and you let other people intimidate you even though they're dumber than a half-brained Sworlalx."

The alien laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment. I can't really help it. Sometimes everything starts to move way too fast and it just turns into this rrraagggphh…nnghhppfffthhhh," his hands twisted, as if to mime the verbal train wreck, "kind of a thing."

Lard Nar smiled. "I miss talking to you like this."

Spleenk nodded. "Me too. We used to do it all the time, but now… I don't know, it feels like we talk so much sometimes, but we never _say_ anything."

The Vortian sighed in agreement.

Spleenk looked away, "I don't want it to be like that."

"It won't."

The other looked somewhat reassured. "Thank you. I'm really glad we got to do this. It seems like it's gotten so hard to have a private conversation."

"…Well, uhm, I don't suppose you'd, uh, well, would you like to get dinner with me sometime? Maybe once we reach Malterra? I know it's not much different from what we've got here, but,"

"It's the sentiment that counts." Spleenk said, smiling, "Yeah. I'd love to."

"Good, great – that's great." Lard Nar replied, and then yawned.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm still a little tired. From the mission, and everything." He sighed.

"You haven't seen a medic yet." It wasn't a question.

The Vortian's looked puzzled. "How do you know that? We've got _thirteen_ of them on board."

"…Yeah, well… I may have asked around… a little…"

Lard Nar couldn't help but smile and Spleek was relieved that the Captain hadn't found him creepy or written him off as stalker material. "I'm fine, Spleenk. Nothing to worry about."

"As much as your non-existent medical training assures me, I'd still prefer it if you had someone with actual knowledge of medicine make that judgment."

"…If it matters that much to you, I'll stop by the Medical Bay later on." Lard Nar reluctantly agreed.

"Thanks." Spleenk relaxed.

"I don't suppose we've heard anything on Vort yet." The Captain mused aloud.

"You'd know before I would."

He sighed, "That's true."

"Hey, listen to me, 'Nar." Spleenk said seriously, establishing eye contact with the Vortian, "No matter what happens to your planet, everyone's still alive. Irk had it evacuated completely before they built the prisons. I know it doesn't help much because all your memories are there, but you still did a good thing. The _right_ thing. You should be proud of that." He took a breath, "I know I am."

"Really?"

"Of course!"

Lard Nar smiled with a small sigh, "I guess I have a way of missing what really matters."

"We all do, sometimes."

There was a loud series of three quick knocks before the door to Lard Nar's personal quarters opened.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Spleenk asked the intruder, "You know the rules, you're supposed to stay with the other refugees."

"Just wanted to talk with the Captain, that's all."

"Well then you can either have the guards send for the Captain or _wait_ for the Captain to come to you."

The intruder narrowed his eyes. " _You_ didn't have a problem walking in here."

"I'm part of the _crew_. You're still a refugee and we need you accounted for at all times."

He looked to the Captain with curiosity in his eyes, "'Nar, You're really going to let your subordinate talk to me like that?"

Lard Nar folded his hands on his desk and "No, Owiaiin. I'm going to _encourage_ him to talk to you like that because it's about time _someone_ did."

The purple-skinned Vortian crossed his arms. "I didn't come up here to pick a fight with anyone. I just wanted to talk. I'll leave now."

Lard Nar sighed, "You made a big enough deal of it. Let's just get this over with. Spleenk," He said, "This'll only take a minute; I'll see you on the bridge."

"…Y-yeah. Sure." He replied, confused but still enthusiastic nonetheless. He nodded in agreement and slipped past the other Vortian standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry for making things awkward… I don't think your boyfriend likes me very much."

"He's not my boyfriend." Lard Nar sighed, "At least not at this rate." He muttered to himself.

"Anyway… the reason I came up here was to ask if I could join up with your crew when the volunteers are assigned."

Lard Nar stammered as he tried to find words, flustered and caught off guard. "I'll have to think about it. The leaders of the other factions of the resistance need to meet up and figure out whose specialties are best suited for which crew, which bases need more personnel, and things like that. I mean, you're probably better off in Research and Development."

The former prisoner 777 glanced at the floor and nodded. "That's all right, I suppose. I still would like to catch up on things… sometime. I really have missed you."

Lard Nar scoffed, "Look, we've had a good conversation, so let's end it before the screaming starts."

"We never could keep it quiet, could we?" Owiaiin asked with a playful expression.

"I'd prefer it if we didn't discuss any of that."

He raised his eyebrows, "You want me to ignore it?"

"It's best to keep the past exactly there. Hence the namesake."

"So you _are_ still mad at me."

Lard Nar sighed. "Whatever I am doesn't matter. It hasn't affected your life for years, so why would that change now?"

"You don't believe in fate?"

The Captain considered the question a moment. "I believe you _choose_ your fate."

"You've changed quite a bit." Owiaiin said with something of an approving glance.

"You haven't." Lard Nar said dismissively, as he passed by the other Vortian and headed for the bridge.

* * *

"Well, looks like _somebody_ finally decided to grace us with his presence." Said the voice of the innuendo-spitting, red-eyed former Irken leader, who swiveled his chair around to face the Captain.

The aforementioned Vortian just shook his head. "Any news yet?"

"Not a damn thing." Red replied, "We're still in Hyperspace, though, and since I didn't have the parts to properly rig up even the most rudimentary audio monitoring device capable of functioning in Hyperspace, we've got nothing but radar until we jump back."

"You can _build_ a hyperdrive… but you can't stick some spare bits to a radio?"

Red crossed his arms, "For your information, _Sir_ , it's more than 'sticking some spare bits' to your internal radio. I'd need to run a subwave frequency with an independent power source because running it through the communications board would fry the circuit for one thing, and another, it would be too powerful and other ships would be able to pick it up and you haven't understood a word of what I just said, have you?"

"You lost me at 'subwave frequency'." The Captain admitted.

"He means to avoid being noticed, we'd have to use a frequency no one could pick up, but it would need to be powered separately because it would blow up the rest of the communications stuff. If we used the ship as a power source, it would be too strong and anybody could find it and track us." Purple glanced at his partner, "That's about the gist of it, right?"

"Have I mentioned how much I love you lately?"

"You might've let it slip."

Lard Nar rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the explanation."

"No problem. Red-speak is hard enough to master as it is. Don't get me started on translating Red-speak-technobabble."

"Red-speak?" Asked the Captain.

Red sighed, "Purple claims I have my own language. Not sure _how_ the 'technobabble' fits, though."

"It's a dialect." Purple answered.

"You, my dear, are absolutely mad." Red replied with a smile.

"And you love it."

"I do?"

"Yep."

"I don't recall saying so."

"I'm fluent in Red-speak, Sweetheart."

"What in my right mind possessed me to take you as a life-mate?" Red asked himself melodramatically.

"Oh, I don't know… how about, you're totally, completely in love with everything about me?"

Red pretended to muse thoughtfully. "…Yeah. I suppose that'll do."

"So, when are we scheduled to jump back to normal space?" Purple asked.

The red-eyed Irken pressed some buttons on the panel in front of him and glanced at the monitor. "We'll stay in Hyperspace another hour or so, just to be on the safe side. I'm not taking any more chances after our recent near-catastrophes."

"They're only _near_ -catastrophes. Not catastrophic catastrophes." Purple reminded.

"Yeah, but we just _barely_ managed to pull it off. If we hadn't managed those few extra minutes, I get the feeling this would have turned into a nightmare."

"You can't think like that. Sure, it could've happened a hundred other ways, but what matters is that it _didn't._ "

Red gave the other a serious glance, "What do you think it would've been like if the _Nescio_ went down? If Tenn hadn't made it out alive? You know every single one of us would be holding ourselves responsible. I _still_ feel like it's somehow my fault she was even injured in the first place. I know it's not, and I know she's going to be all right, but… I don't know. I just get this horrible feeling when I think about what could have happened."

"Honestly, Red… so do I."

"Glad to know I'm not alone, then."

"You're never alone, Sweetheart."

Red smiled, "Just can't get rid of you, can I?"

"Not if you _tried_." Purple laughed, leaning over his partner and kissing the top of his head. He slumped over the back of the chair, allowing his head to fall against Red's shoulder and bringing his arms around the other's waist.

"Hey, 'Nar, give me a hand, will you?"

"With what?" The distracted Vortian asked.

"I've got boyfriend on me."

"Never heard _you_ complain about that before."

"He does have a point." Purple reminded, "I'm actually rather comfortable this way, I think I'll have a nap."

"You wouldn't dare."

"But wouldn't I, though?"

"I'll tell on you."

"You'd tattle on your life-mate? Tsk, tsk. What kind of manners are those?"

Red offered a sly smirk, "Well then, I suppose you wouldn't mind teaching me a thing or two about how to behave?"

"This conversation is going places I don't want to think about." Said the Vortian.

"What don't you want to think about?" A new, unexpected voice asked.

"Oh, erm, ah… well,"

"Hey Spleenk." Purple greeted without missing a beat.

"If you're not going to let go, would you at least let me turn this chair around so I can see what's going on?" Red asked.

With an exaggerated sigh, Purple turned the swivel chair 180 degrees.

"Didn't hear you come over." The red-eyed Irken addressed the four-armed creature.

"It's all right." Spleenk replied. "You've got boyfriend on you." He said, looking the two Irkens over.

Red sighed, "Tell me about it. Won't come off."

"Ah, yes. That can be troublesome sometimes."

"You have no idea."

Purple discreetly bit his partner's neck.

Red jumped at the sharpness of the unexpected action, "Did you just _bite_ me?"

"Who, _me_? I'd _never_ do such a thing!" He replied in mock-offense, winking at Spleenk and Lard Nar. Spleenk stifled his laughter and Lard Nar cradled his forehead in his palm with an exasperated expression.

"At least I didn't _see_ it."

"You _did_ bite me!" Red stated, "I can't believe you _bit_ me!"

"I don't see why. I've been doing it for years."

"Mr. Anti-PDA-keep-your-hands-to-yourself just bit me. _On the bridge_! You dirty hypocrite."

"Yeah, but no one noticed."

" _I_ sure as hell did." Red muttered.

"Aww, if it bothers you so much I won't bite you anymore."

"Hey, I never said _that_."

"Well, which is it? You either want me to do it or you don't."

"There's a time and a place, Honey."

Purple released his partner with a victory grin, "You understand my feelings on PDA yet?"

Red took a moment and processed Purple's response.

Spleenk grinned, "That was kind of brilliant."

Purple shrugged with a smile, "I have my moments."

"Don't you just?" Red replied, feigning resentment.

"Oh admit it," Purple said, sitting in his partner's lap, "you only want me for my brains."

Red laughed, "Damnit. Here I thought I'd managed to fool you all this time. The sex was just a plus, I'm really after your brains."

"I know all about your evil Zombie plans."

"So I'm a Zombie?"

"You're after my brains, aren't you?"

"Fair enough. I guess I am."

"So does that make it Necrophilia?"

Three heads turned toward Spleenk and a beat of silence followed before the two Irkens erupted in laughter.

"I think we're gonna get along just fine, Spleenk." Red replied. "Oh come on, 'Nar, that was hilarious _and_ it was at _my_ expense. Stop being so uptight."

"I've told him the same thing." The four-armed alien added. "He's got no sense of humor."

"Hey! My sense of humor is just _fine_ , thank you all."

"Yeah?" Spleenk asked with a bit of a sly grin. "What's the difference between a pregnant life form and a light bulb?"

Lard Nar huffed in annoyance, "What, Spleenk?"

"You can unscrew a light bulb."

Purple nearly caused the chair to topple over when he laughed, and Red had to brace himself with one hand on the ship's console while Lard Nar clearly didn't see the amusement.

"Wow. You really _don't_ have a sense of humor." Spleenk said with a small smile.

"You have to excuse Lard Nar," said the red-eyed Irken, once he found himself able to breathe again, "it's been quite a while since he's gotten laid."

Lard Nar displayed a look very similar to the way an Earth cow would look at an oncoming train.

Purple smacked his partner upside the head. Not hard, but in a way that communicated the sentiment, _"you're an idiot, don't embarrass him in front of Spleenk"_.

"You'll have to excuse Red, he's a bit of an asshole," Purple turned toward his partner wearing a thoroughly displeased expression that indicated the other was in serious trouble, "and so help me if the words ' _you would know'_ leave your mouth, you're going to have some _very_ long nights ahead of you."

Spleenk brushed the matter aside, speaking in a casual tone, "That makes two of us, then."

"Are we the only two life forms on this ship… _involved_ with each other?" Red asked in a somewhat incredulous, disbelieving tone.

"The Arrosaraxians, Hiuewl and Esldaraia, are sleeping together… but they're not _together_ , apparently."

Purple rolled his eyes and shook his head in a manner that begged the question, " _why are people such idiots?"_

Red sighed, "Why are people such idiots?"

Spleenk shrugged, "Don't look at me. I don't know _how_ those arrangements are supposed to work. This kind of life doesn't really lend itself too well to commitment. If you're looking for a relationship, well, you need to learn some patience."

"That sucks." Red responded.

"Eh, well, what can you do? You've just gotta wait for the wheel."

"What?" Lard Nar asked.

Spleenk sighed. "My foremother used to say that life is a great wheel. Sometimes it grinds you down into the mud, other times it lifts you up into the light."

"Are we strapped to this wheel?" Red asked as a point of clarification.

"That's a given. The point is, that most times you get a second chance. You just gotta wait for the wheel."

"Smart woman." Purple replied with an affirming nod.

"You really believe that?" Red asked the four-armed alien with an unfamiliar, timid curiosity in his voice. "You think we all get a second chance?"

Spleenk didn't waver for a moment. "Absolutely. I mean, the only way to figure out what's right is by learning what's _wrong_ , and we can only do that through mistakes. It's how you respond to the situation the next time it comes 'round that really matters. I don't think it's fair to judge a person based on a single encounter. I don't think anyone ought to give up hope just because they tried and failed."

"What do you mean by that?" Lard Nar asked, pretending not to be as interested as he really was.

"Well, I always just saw it like, I guess – okay – so, imagine you're building yourself a house. You've got the perfect plans all drawn up and all your materials and you're ready to go. So you're working, and time goes by, and some people get bored with the design halfway through, or decide it's too much work to keep at, or give up on it for some other reason, but for other people, they're determined to finish because it makes them happy. And say you're one of those really determined people. Then, out of nowhere, catastrophe strikes. A piece of the foundation caves in or there's some natural disaster that levels it to the ground – and now you've got nothing again. Once that happens, you can relocate or try to build a more solid foundation with better stuff – or, you can accept defeat and stay homeless forever. If you want my opinion, I'd rather build 99 houses that fall apart if it means I finally get number 100 right. It's never easy to start again, but the point is that in the end, those 99 failures are _nothing_ compared to how terrible it would be to live without a roof over your head."

"…If you don't mind my asking, Spleenk," Purple began, "why haven't you been talking like this all along?"

Spleenk sighed, "I – uh – well, I get kinda… nervous around people."

"We're people." Red replied, "At least, we were the last time I checked."

"It's different like this. Like, I mean, I can talk to 'Nar because I know him well enough, and I can talk to you two because… well, I trust his decisions, and you know, I've, well… the way you two act… you can't fake that."

"How so?" Red asked, his curiosity piqued.

"I was just as suspicious as everyone else when I heard about your situation at first… if not a little more. I'm just kinda paranoid like that. I heard rumors about… well, about what you went through. I felt bad, but I still didn't quite believe it. I wanted to, but I couldn't help myself. I _definitely_ didn't believe it when someone told me one of you had _cried_ , and trying to fathom the two of you as lovers was near impossible at first. When 'Nar brought you both onto the flight deck the first time though, I knew you weren't lying."

"But we didn't even talk to you that day. I was _still_ mad as hell at you over the COM-link fiasco. We didn't do anything that should've changed your mind." Purple responded. "I don't quite follow."

"You hardly made eye contact with _anyone_ that day. You slouched a bit… and, well, Irkens don't usually try and look _shorter_ … especially the Tallest. You stayed close to each other, like you were really, really uncomfortable. And just catching glimpses of you every now and again, I saw how you… this is gonna sound dirty no matter _how_ I try and phrase it, but I really don't mean it to, just so you know. The way you responded to each other, physically… you _can't_ fake that. You never have to adjust your grip to find a comfortable way to hold hands. Stuff like that is so natural, there's no way you _couldn't_ have an incredible level of intimacy. So if you weren't lying about that, it meant you had no reason to lie about anything else, so… you know."

"I have to say," Red replied, "I'm thoroughly impressed."

"Great, now I've got two people on board fluent in body language."

"I don't know about that, 'Nar," said Spleenk, "it sure as hell sounds like they're _both_ experts… at least, from what I can hear outside their bunk."

Spleenk again became the focus of three sets of eyes. Red sported a playfully wicked grin and Purple tried to muster up some dignity, despite the laughter he was suppressing.

"I told you one of these days you were going to wake the neighbors!" Red mock-scolded his life-mate.

Spleenk laughed and a smile of amusement broke Lard Nar's grumpy expression. Purple cocked an antenna at his partner, "You know I could make you wake the whole ship if I wanted to."

"I'd prefer you didn't." Lard Nar chimed in.

"It's okay, 'Nar. He prefers to beg, anyway."

"Ooh!" Spleenk laughed, "I think he just won."

"You know, sometimes I don't like you."

"Aww, sore loser." Purple teased.

Red grumbled for a moment before a light on his console began to flash with an automatic beeping noise. "I think you're going to need to relocate, dear."

"Why's that?"

"Because I have to make sure we get back to normal space in one piece. If that's all right with you, of course."

"Uh, _Captain_ , here!" The Vortian interjected, "Don't _I_ get a say in spaceship-falling-apart decisions?"

"You heard the man." Red reminded his partner.

Purple pouted and rose to his feet. "Happy now?"

"Not particularly. You know I love it when you're on top of me."

"…I should've seen that one." Purple admitted.

Spleenk nodded in agreement.

"I'm surrounded." Lard Nar muttered to himself hopelessly.

After a short moment Red turned his attention to the controls before asking that the crew to resume their positions on deck and prepare to jump back to normal space in five minutes.

* * *

When Dib crossed paths with Invader hobbling up the street he took a deep breath and smoothed his hair, silently hoping he'd be able to pull off his plan.

"Guess those things really _do_ work, after all." He said to no one in particular as the shackled alien approached him.

"Did you," he wheezed, "find anything at the base?"

Dib avoided eye contact and spoke with a small amount of anger in his voice. "He's gone."

"Gone? As in…"

"As in: there was hardly anything left of him."

"A…are… are you _sure_?"

"I questioned the robot. Played the surveillance tapes. He's dead." He offered a humorless laugh, "Zim is fucking _dead_." Dib was surprised at how much emotion he was able to put into this. He just hoped it was effective.

Skooge was silent for a long while. "Shouldn't you be off somewhere celebrating?" He spat at the human who hadn't moved.

"What's to celebrate? There's no victory in this. I didn't _beat_ him at anything."

"There aren't many of your species who think like that. At least, from what I've seen so far."

"Yeah, well, that's what kind of made it… worthwhile, I guess, to have Zim around."

"…You know, there aren't many of my race that think like you either. We're so strong and prideful and yet, we have no concept of honor." He sighed. "You mind taking these cuffs off? It's hard to balance."

"Wha? Oh yeah, sure." The boy replied, releasing the aliens from his bonds.

"It was nice to meet you, human Dib. Your planet is under no threat of invasion and my only job was to report on Zim's status. Since I've got all the information I need, I'll be reporting to my leaders and heading back for my next assignment. Farewell."

Dib nodded and watched the Irken go. He followed at a distance, keeping himself hidden in nearby shrubbery. One thing he had learned quite thoroughly in the last three years was how to successfully maintain stealth.

* * *

He punched in the correct sequence and dialed the secure line that connected him directly to the Tallest. He knew it was against protocol to take the boy's word at face-value, but the human had nothing to gain by deceiving him and seemed to have adopted a completely different demeanor. Any other Invader, he would've followed up and done his own thorough search, but he'd known Zim since they were smeets… it was a strange sort of loyalty he knew he shouldn't have, but Skooge had _always_ been loyal, even to the former Tallests, no matter how obvious it was that they did not like him and only sought him for their own amusement or saw him as a blight on the Empire. Skooge was loyal, and that loyalty blinded him to many things, but he was not ignorant to the fact that his previous leaders had not liked him. They had all grown up together – Red, Purple, Zim, and himself… there was no denying that Red and Purple were closer to each other than anyone else, it did not mean that all four of them had not had classes together, or shared a lunch period. It felt like a betrayal on two levels: one being to himself as an Irken citizen and Invader, and the second, on a more personal level.

He shook himself from his thoughts when Tallest appeared on his ship's main screen. He greeted them traditionally with a bow and customary salutation, watching as they ordered their servants out of the room.

"Ah, Invader Skooge." Cyanine began.

"Have you found anything?" Pthtalo asked hopefully.

Skooge sighed with disappointment in his voice, "Confirmed, Sirs. Invader Zim is dead."

The two tall Irkens on the other end of he call stared with wide eyes and gaping jaws for a moment, before crying out in celebration.

"I can't believe it!"

"We'll have to make it a Planetary Holiday!"

"Now _that's_ brilliant. Ooh, how about a _party_?"

"Yes! That's perfect! With strobe lights!"

"Really, Pthtalo? _Strobe lights_?"

"Why not? Do you have a better suggestion?"

"I was thinking glow sticks."

Pthtalo sighed, "You know _somebody's_ going to break theirs open and we'll have to call in a HAZMAT team."

"Come on, they're not _that_ radioactive…"

"Cyanine…" The blue-eyed Irken replied sternly.

"We'll give everyone a dose of AntiRad when they come in. We'd be stopping them to do a Pak-ID confirmation at the door anyway."

"Do you know the kind of bad publicity we'd get if a _radiation leak_ happened at one of _our_ events? Especially _now_? We can't risk losing the public's trust."

"The public likes glow sticks."

"Well, they weren't too fond of radiation poisoning, last I checked."

"Oh, come on, it's not like _we're_ poisoning anyone."

Pthtalo crossed his arms, "No. Just giving them the means." He said with a trace of bitterness in his tone.

Skooge coughed once to let his leaders know that he was still on the line.

"Oh, Skooge."

"Sorry, got caught up in the excitement."

"I noticed." He said plainly, "If my business on this planet is complete, my Tallest, I will be setting a course for Irk and departing within the next few hours."

"Once you're in flight, be sure to call the docking bay. We want to make _sure_ there's a full honor guard waiting to meet you upon arrival." Cyanine grinned wickedly.

"An honor guard is not necessary, Sirs. I am merely following orders."

"Are you… _rejecting_ a gift from your Tallest?" Pthtalo replied dramatically.

"Certainly not, Sirs. I am humbled by your benevolence. I am simply not worthy of such an honor."

"You got that right." Cyanine muttered.

"What was that, my Tallest?"

"Oh, nothing, just – you know – talking to myself."

Skooge nodded with a confused expression.

"Fine work, Soldier. The Empire salutes you." Pthtalo said with a mocking salute.

Skooge returned the gesture, in earnest, "Thank you, Sirs. Invader Skooge, over and out."

With a long sigh and that feeling he couldn't shake, Invader Skooge began preparing for his trip back home.

* * *

**\- Allusions and References -**

**Quantumspace** is from _Babylon 5: The Lost Tales,_ "Over There"

The **orange-haired human** Zim refers to is Rick Astley.

**Irken Idol** is an obvious reference to _American Idol_ , for anyone living under a rock.

Zim's rant about having **s** **een what goes on in Dib's head** is a reference to the episode, _"Dib's Wonderful Life Of Doom"._

Spleenk's mention that he and Lard Nar **talk so much, but never _say_ anything ** is a direct quote from the Series 4 _Doctor Who_ episode, _"The Doctor's Daughter"_ (which i seem to quote quite often)

Spleenk's joke about **sense of humor** and **unscrewing a light bulb** is from the wonderful movie, _"My Blue Heaven",_ which no one has seen, but I absolutely love.

The entire **wait for the wheel** bit is taken directly from the _Farscape_ episode, _"Self-Inflicted Wounds, Part II: Wait for the Wheel"_.

**Strobe lights** versus **glow sticks** was a reference to Red and Purple's argument about lasers versus smoke machines.

**Anti-Rad** refers to Rad-X and RadAway from the game _Fallout 3_ (which I've logged near 200 hours on).

**\- Notes -**

The Milky Way _is_ actually one of the older galaxies in known space. Because space is slowly expanding and we're located on the outskirts, scientists believe our galaxy has quite a few years under it's belt, compared to what we know of the universe.

We indeed _have_ literally stunted our evolution.

I really loved writing Spleenk. He's the one character I gave the most of my own philosophies to.

The small bit about how terrible it would have been if Tenn had died or the other ship hadn't made it, is a small 'inside joke' for my readers, in regard to the original draft of the last chapter.

I know glow sticks aren't radioactive, but I thought it'd be hilarious if Irk did the most extreme thing possible and used irradiated stuff.

This was literally forty pages longer, but I felt like it needed to be split. The next chapter is going to be pretty heavy, as far as emotions go. It's basically driven by how the characters react to the unexpected consequences of their actions, and how a simple, innocuous decision can completely derail one's life or be a catalyst for self-improvement. Wheels start turning, pieces start to fall together but the picture doesn't look quite right. Lack of information can kill you, but bad information is just as lethal. Everyone will have to make a choice, and everyone will lose something. Just a peek at what's coming, for you wonderful, patient people.

I really appreciate reviews. They motivate me to write faster and they improve my skill. Plus, I really want to know what you have to say. Even just a small, "woohoo!" is appreciated. Critique is always welcome and respected, as long as it's not trolling or flaming.

I want everybody who's been following this story to know how much it means to me, and how grateful I am to you for keeping me inspired.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Two updates in the same week?! Minor warning: there's also some mature content in this one, too, but it's vague (in my opinion) and you can easily skip through it by scrolling for the next page break.

As always, thanks to everyone who follows this - especially those of you who take the time to review. As simple as it is, it's wonderful to know that people are enjoying this.

* * *

**\- 7 -**

Still buried deep in his underground base, shut inside the room he had not left in days, Zim wondered what the hell he'd been thinking when he'd finally agreed to Dib's proposal. Was he really _so_ desperate that he'd allow himself to stoop low enough to fight alongside that wretched Earth-monkey?

…Yes. Yes, he was.

The alien cringed. Though his first instinct was to immediately deny it, to somehow rationalize the situation so it painted the picture he wanted to see, he knew that the Zim-tinted glasses through which he saw things couldn't be put back on. It wasn't that they no longer fit or the prescription had changed; it was more like they'd been torn from his face, thrown to the ground, repeatedly crushed, and driven over by an 18-wheeler… which then backed over them, just in case even a fragment had been left intact. Not real glasses, like the kind the stupid Dib-beast wore.

Stupid human metaphors. They were getting to him. All their clichés and proverbs and witty little sayings that he had come to understand and incorporate into his own vocabulary... they'd gotten to him, and he hated that. Zim was no longer "blending in with the indigenous life" as an observer. He'd begun to _assimilate_. Even his classmates accepted him as "the Weird Kid", and ridiculed him in a traditional manner no different from how they treated the Dib.

The Dib-pig was certainly annoying; there was no denying that. Zim had found, to his surprise, that the boy wasn't so bad when they weren't fighting. Those moments were _incredibly_ rare, seeing as they usually plotted each other's demise on a daily basis, but they _did_ happen. It was really the boy's overwhelming self-serving self-righteousness that irritated Zim more than anything. Though in retrospect, Zim's own attitude irritated _himself_. Truthfully, if he was going to be fair to the boy, Dib had probably picked up a bit of Zim's tendencies as a consequence of dealing with him for three years, and _that_ was the behavior he found most loathsome in the child.

Since when did he care if he was _fair_ in regard to the hideous Filth-Beast? Zim gripped his head in his hands and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a short wave of sickness passing through him and left frustration in its place. He felt his blood pressure rising as that dreadful, cold empty feeling he'd come to know as "helplessness" crept quietly, spreading it's frigid tendrils through his insides. If it had a physical form, Zim thought, it would be sporting a cruel, taunting, smile.

"…Zim?" The familiar voice interrupted his train of thought. "Zim? Are you okay?"

"Is this what it feels like?" He asked, his normally shrill, shouting voice leaving him as a sad, desperate plea.

"What are you talking about?" Dib asked, finding himself strangely unsettled with the alien's tone. For so long, he dreamed of the day he'd hear that manic laughter shatter into painful sobs and wet, choking screams – particularly at Dib's mercy, begging under the boy's scalpel. Now though, the sight of his nemesis… _former_ nemesis, for the moment, in such angst inspired an unexpected, unfamiliar sadness.

"Being… _human_." He said, somewhat reluctantly, struggling to keep the distain from his tone, "these… emotions. Is it always... does it…"

"Hurt?" Dib tried.

Zim looked up, a tired, weary expression written on his features, and nodded. Words had been failing him lately. So much, all of it making logic impossible. He guessed that this situation was just another example.

Dib sighed, "Not always."

"You lie." Said with none of its customary vigor.

The boy took a moment to collect his thoughts and break them down in a way that Zim might understand. "Sometimes, it feels like you're never going to stop hurting. Some things will hurt longer than others and then there are some things will always be hard to think about, but they _will_ get easier. Everything takes time to heal. It's frustrating, and sometimes, you cry and scream yourself deaf and dumb and nothing changes. Sometimes, when you think you've hit the bottom and you start trying to climb out, something gives way and it turns out you've still got a _long_ fall ahead because the ground caved in under you. Sometimes, it comes down to the very real decision of whether or not you want to live. And it might not seem like it, it never does, but there's _always_ something to live for. Your Tallest went through all that pain and they could've given up, but they had hope and faith in each other. We're all not as lucky as they were to have what they did, but by the same token, we're all not as _unlucky_ as they were. It's different for everyone. For some people, it's an ideal, or a God, or a dream; for others, it's something as simple guitar strings, bass lines, drum beats, or even art."

Zim made a face.

"Hey, when you think you've lost _everything_ , you've got to find _something_ to hold on to. It's always there… it's just a matter of being able to see it and believe in it, until you can believe in yourself."

"Logically, what you just said makes no sense. But, I… _feel_ … however, that there is some truth to what you said."

"You know first-hand what happens when you live without emotions, Zim. When you rely on logic alone everything is… well, _Irken_ , basically. You've got logic, but no _reason_ … in terms of motivation. All you'd do is satisfy basic needs and stuff, and that'd be boring. I know you know what happens when you suppress emotions over time. They bottle up and you can't handle it when you can't cope with them anymore. Really, the _logical_ thing to do with all that in mind is to have a happy medium."

"Did you get smarter in the last hour or something?" Zim asked curiously, in all seriousness, "Are you the Dib-Bot?"

The boy just looked at Zim as if the alien was mad.

"It's not every day you start talking sense."

"Well, this sort of thing isn't exactly a daily occurrence."

"Hell of a day." Zim sighed, head in his hands.

"Yep. Hell of a day."

"So, what happened with Skooge?"

"He bought the story I told him. I followed him back to his ship and waited around a while. He came back outside and looked like he was playing around with the engine, or something… but it wasn't a normal Voot engine, I can tell you that much. I figure he'll work on it maybe a half-hour more before he decides to come looking for spare parts and a way to contact the Tallest."

The Irken let out a breath of air. "It doesn't feel right, knowing someone else is where they ought to be."

Dib looked at the alien sympathetically, " _Your_ Tallest?"

He nodded. "Zim has seen other Tallests in his lifetime, but… I guess it's just weirder because I grew up with Tallest- well, I guess I can't call them that anymore… it's just 'Red and Purple' now." He shook his head, "Wow, that sounds strange."

"You never told me you actually _knew_ those guys."

"Our interactions were not of the pleasantly social variety, Dib-Beast."

Dib rolled his eyes at the insult that had somehow become a joke, "Yeah. Can't say I've been very friendly."

"I can't say I haven't been trying to annihilate you for three years."

"At least you're honest."

Zim shrugged.

"So tell me about them. Your Tallest. What are they like, except tall?" Dib tried, hoping it would help the Invader – well, _former_ Invader, as it were – to lighten up a bit. The nostalgia seemed to loosen him up, so Dib figured it would be worthwhile to see if encouraging it would have a positive effect.

"Funny, Earth-Boy." The Irken sighed, "Red was always good at fixing stuff. That time you and I were fighting over The Massive's remote control, he was the one who figured it out – and The Massive's not even Irken technology. Engineered entirely by Vortian scientists. Knew the guy who designed it, actually." He paused and sighed with a smile, "Good old Owaiin, back on planet Vort. Told him it would never fly."

"But I thought Irk was a closed planet."

"It is."

Dib looked confused. "If only Irkens can live there, how'd you get to know that guy?"

"Owaiin?"

"Yeah, him." Dib replied, "The one who designed The Massive."

"I met him on Vort, Filthy Meat-Creature."

"Ah. What'd you do there?"

Zim sighed. "Worked with military research and development. They figured I'd be great in that area since I destroyed everything I touched." He laughed, but there was no humor in it; just that terrible emptiness that sounded so wrong coming from the alien. "Tallest Miyuki put me there. Everyone wanted me deactivated by that point. I'd screwed up so much as an Elite Soldier that my Commanding Officer wanted me dishonorably discharged and forget deactivated – he wanted me _spaced_. Can't say I blame him. I blew up the entire platoon. Miyuki, though… she had such a short reign, but it felt so much longer. She was a peaceful woman. Her Co-Tallest died a few days after being inaugurated. The press called it an assassination… but in retrospect, I think it was an execution. You see, Miyuki was different. She was a diplomat. She must've gone against so many orders… I can't imagine what They did to her for it.

She told the CO to find a place where I could put my 'uniqueness', she called it, to use. That happened to be military research and weapons development on Vort. The two planets were still allies at the time. I worked there for a while."

"Makes sense. You've got a knack for making weapons."

"I'm all right."

"Come on, that time-stasis field thing you built was pretty cool. Well, at least the _science_ of it was."

"Hmph." Zim managed unenthusiastically, "You mean _before_ I ignored everyone's warnings and demolished the city? …How _does_ this place get rebuilt so quickly, anyway?"

Dib paused a moment and asked himself the same question, "I have no idea. I'll make a note to investigate that."

" _GIR_ even tried to tell me what would happen. _GIR!_ The SIR unit that tried to make friends with the _fire hydrant_ \- was more capable than I was."

"Come on, Zim. You won't repeat the same mistake again."

"This is _me_ , Dib-Pig. I _am_ a repeating mistake."

"The hardest lessons take the most time to learn. My mom used to say that, before she left."

"Where did she go? And has she noticed how long she's been out? What could be taking her so long?"

Dib shook his head with the small trace of a smile, "No, Zim, she didn't leave like that. She left my _family_. Divorced my dad."

"As I understand it, Earth-children are very close to their birth-givers… or to the parents they bond with in early stages of development, correct?"

Dib nodded.

Zim fumbled for words, and managed a stutter of syllables that left his mouth as something less coherent than gibberish. Still, the human got a basic sense of what the alien was failing to articulate.

"Thanks, Zim; but you don't have to be sorry."

The Irken settled in his seat again and collected his thoughts. "Zim has no parents, so he cannot understand."

"It's all right. You get over it. … Well, that's not exactly true. It's one of those things that kinda always hurts a little when you think about, but it doesn't bother me as much, and I don't think about it as often as I used to. I mean, when nobody's home, when it's Parent-Teacher night, or my dad pisses me off, those are really the only times I remember. Sometimes I get mad at her for leaving. Other times, I think I get mad at her because she was _able_ to leave."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm stuck with my dad. And he's not a bad guy, really, he just… he sees me as a mistake. My mom doesn't have to deal with him never being around or disappointing him. She gets to be free."

"I think you're being what you Earth-children call "emo"."

"Zim just used the word _"emo"_ in a completely serious sentence. Now I _know_ the world is ending."

Zim rolled his eyes, "I meant to imply that you are not nearly as much a failure to your father as I am to my entire race."

"I guess. I haven't been kicked out of the house yet. But I'm not sure he cares if I'm there or not anymore."

"I'm sure he loves you, he just has an odd Earth-Type way of communicating it."

Dib was quiet for a minute, as if considering something, and then deciding against it. "So. Planet Vort?"

"Yes?"

"Tell me about it."

"You know about Vort, Dib. You've been through the Universal Database of Knowledge and Stuff. Well, a little of it, at least."

Dib looked startled. "How did you,"

"That time I locked on to the signal you were broadcasting to control the Massive. I was able to go through remotely and see all the files you downloaded."

"Where'd you learn _that_?"

"Owaiin."

"And he just _gives_ you this information?! Didn't your people imprison him, or something?"

Zim gave a nostalgic laugh, "I did him a favor a while back."

"I'll say. Must've been _some_ favor."

"Set him up with his boyfriend. Well, _ex_ -boyfriend, last I heard." Zim frowned, "It's a shame, really. They were together such a long time."

"You kept in touch?"

"I'd ask when I called in favors every now and again. It was fine until seven or eight, maybe, of your human years ago. "He just didn't want to talk about it. Seems to be a trait common in every species, I've noticed."

"Interesting."

"Vort was a good place. You'd like it there. Lots of technology and all kinds of aliens. At least, before Irk took over and built the prisons."

"Does your species do anything, _other_ than destroy things?"

"I'd say no, but… then there are anomalies, like Red and Purple. They just… they're different. I guess maybe they were born with defective receptors, or maybe none at all… but I think it's something else. Something organic. Your guess is as good as mine. I think we're an aggressive species. We _are_ rather short, and it's like that Darwin-Human talked about."

"You became stronger and more aggressive to ward off natural predators and stay alive."

"Exactly.

"Go on," Dib sighed, "I'm interested to hear more about those leaders of yours."

"… I'm boring you, aren't I?"

"Not at all, Zim!"

"Zim will not be hurt if you tell him the truth."

"Come on, this is inside information about Irken social behavior I'll _never_ have access to! Plus, I get to learn more about your leaders,"

"Former leaders."

" _Former leaders_. I won't have to dance for them to have my questions answered, and we're having a fairly pleasant conversation, not actively trying to kill each other!"

"You _danced_?"

"…It was GIR's suggestion."

"When was _this_?"

"You got abducted in the middle of class by that enormous Irken... the one wearing the apron and a respirator mask?"

Zim shuddered. "Sizz-Lorr."

"Well, with a name like that, at least the apron makes sense."

Zim stared at him for a minute before erupting in laughter, "You _danced_ for the Tallest?"

"Yeah, well...." Dib mumbled. "Are you gonna tell me or not?"

"Maybe I ought to make you dance for _me_ before I give away all my secrets."

"Okay, that goes on the list of ' _Stuff Zim Should Never Say'_. Right next to that one about 'shaving my giant head of smell with my bad self' or whatever it was."

Zim rolled his eyes, "You're just jealous _I_ came up with it first, Large-Headed-Puny-Dirt-Child."

"Oh yeah, Zim. I'm in _awe_ of your conversational ability."

"As you should be. I am _ZIM!_ " He shouted, in a mockery of himself.

Dib couldn't help but laugh. Zim being able to joke at his own expense was a good sign, so he figured he'd try to keep on communicating with the Irken. Sometimes, just the simple act of _talking_ could provide an outlet for stress. "Go on, then. So far, all I know is the red one's called "Red", and he's good at fixing stuff."

"He's a good strategist, too. The charismatic type. He could be inexcusably rude or cruel for no reason at all, and everyone _still_ liked him. He never apologized for anything, to anyone, except Purple. Pretty aggressive and competitive. Obsessed to an unhealthy degree with lasers. Don't ask, I don't get it, either. I'm not sure Purple does. Or even Red, for that matter. He'd push Purple around a lot but Purple always pushed back, and they'd wrestle the life out of each other. The constant rolling around on the floor together should have been a sign of _something_ , now that I think about it. It became such a regular thing that we all eventually had pools going, back at the Academy. Every day, we'd bet on which one would start it and who would win. I made a lot of extra monies off that, actually. They were pretty evenly matched, but Purple usually won.

He was probably the best fighter in the Academy. More agile, I think. No one had the kind of talent he did, in terms of hand-to-hand combat. I've tried for years to learn to fight the way he did naturally… obviously, that didn't happen."

"What made him so good? Was he just stronger than everyone else, or did he use some kind of weird style?" Dib asked curiously.

"Well, he was pretty strong, but it was really about _how_ he fought. The thing about his style was that he didn't have one."

"That doesn't make much sense."

"I was getting there." Zim explained, "Purple's style was his opponent's style, whoever they were at the time. I know logically how he did it, but you'd be surprised how hard it is to adapt as quickly as he can. He'd always give his opponent the upper hand at first. All he needed, at _most_ was to take two punches and you'd be on the ground before you could blink again. He'd learn your technique – figure you out – in a few seconds and be effective enough to use it against you.

Let's see… what else can I say about him? He can sound completely nonsensical, but if you get him to slow down, he's actually pretty smart. His brain moves faster than his mouth, is what Red used to say. Particularly enjoys puppets.

The two of them used to blow up the Chemistry Wing a lot. And Red _loved_ pulling pranks. Purple… not so much, but Red would always drag him into it. And usually get them _both_ out of it, too."

"So _all_ Irkens are just as… explosive, as you are?"

"Hilarious, Filthy-Worm-Brained-Creature. No. I'm pretty sure they _meant_ to blow it up."

"Isn't that illegal?"

Zim looked at Dib as if he was an idiot. "It's _Irk_ , Dib. The Academy is built for that sort of thing. You've got rebellious kids being taught how to make explosions. After a few hundred years, they figured out what that equals."

"Got it."

"So, what are we going to do when Skooge gets here?"

"Why are you asking _me_? This is _your_ plan, Zim."

"Really?" He contemplated a moment, "… Well, I'm sure it made perfect sense when I thought of it."

Dib just rolled his eyes. "So we're winging it, basically."

"Master," The Computer interrupted, "the Irken identified as 'Skooge' is at the door. Awaiting orders."

"Oh, um… keep the security system down. Let him in. Override any commands he issues and send him to _this_ room." Zim ordered.

"Anything else, Sir?"

"That's all, for now, Computer. Thank you."

The Computer seemed to stutter for a moment, unaccustomed to the verbal appreciation. "You're, uh… welcome, Sir."

"So we've got a plan now?" Dib asked.

"It'll do."

"Care to fill me in?"

"I'm making this up as I go along."

Dib sighed, "At least _neither_ of us know what's going on."

"You are not very reassuring at all, Human."

"…Yeah, I just realized that."

* * *

"All right, everyone, it might be a little bumpy coming out of Hyperspace, so please fasten your seat belts and for your own safety, we ask that you refrain from resting cups containing hot beverages between your legs. We do not assume responsibility for your lack of intelligence. We will be jumping back to normal space in one minute, and counting. Headache, fatigue, nausea, insomnia, dizziness upon standing, and incessant vomiting may occur. Anything else is your problem entirely. Thank you for flying Resisty Spacelines, we hope your journey was at least as pleasant as being ripped apart by a pack of wild Rcagnoraks, disembowelment, or the death penalty on Ugelkesh." Red spoke in a pleasant voice, dripping with the sweetness of cotton candy, covered with artificial sugar.

Purple would've given Red a firm, stern glace, but all he could do was try (and fail) miserably to stifle his own laughter.

The jump back to normal space was successful and much to everyone's satisfaction did not cause the ship to explode, catch fire, or spontaneously turn into a penguin. Red stabilized the ship's main engines and deactivated hyperdrive. He checked the fuel levels and began running a full systems scan, just to make sure the jump hadn't caused any kind of hull breaches or structural damage. He was positive that the crew (or the refugees) would have _felt_ something like that, but Red wasn't about to take any more chances.

"Everything looks like it's in tact." Red stated, to no one in particular.

"Glad to hear it." Said the voice of the Captain, "Are we able to pick up news transmissions yet?"

"The communications equipment should harmonize in a minute or so. It's still offline from the jump. We shouldn't send any kind of signals until we get to the rendezvous point on Malterra. Less chance that someone will notice it. We can pick up broadcasts anonymously, though. Sally worked that one out." The red-eyed Irken explained.

The Vortian just nodded.

Red punched in a few sequences, turned some dials, and flicked a couple of switches before a voice began to cut in and out under the static of the vidscreen. "Just gotta tune it…" He said, carefully adjusting the settings on the panel in front of him.

The image faded in, grainy at first and then gradually resolved itself in high definition. The audio came through with perfect clarity, and there wasn't a single person on board grateful for it.

… _when one of our news probes in Sigma 7 picked up an enormous disturbance. What we received were shocking images of Planet Vort – or rather, what_ used to be _Planet Vort. I was one of the first reporters on the scene. It's not yet clear_ how _this atrocity happened, but authorities on Meekrob claim no knowledge of this attack. Irken Law Enforcement officers speculate that due to the nature of the disaster, it was orchestrated by a terrorist group - either an organized resistance or a faction composed of Irken citizens still brainwashed by government traitors. The Tallest are scheduled to formally address the Empire later this evening._

_For those just joining us, this is IENN reporting live from Sigma 7. Planet Vort, home to Irk's military research and development prison facility, was decimated by what Irken Authorities believe to have been a terrorist group. The current assumption everyone seems to be under at this moment in the investigation is that the main prison was infiltrated and its fusion reactor, sabotaged by a fanatic group with hostile intent. A perimeter has been set up around the irradiated area, and should be avoided by any life forms affected negatively by exposure._

_The death toll is estimated to be close to a thousand Irkens, all working at the time, with no word on the number of prisoners. We have no solid figures yet, but we'll be covering this story as it develops._

Images of a vast, smoky _nothing_ with chunks of irradiated rock suspended within it consumed the screen as everyone on the bridge tried to process the implications of what the fuck had just happened.

"… We did that." Hoverbrain said, to no one at all.

Spleenk looked at the Captain with sympathetic eyes, but the Vortian's stare never left the screen. At a loss for anything else, he very cautiously reached out and touched the other's arm. "Hey, Lard Nar? Are you with me?" He asked quietly.

"… It's gone. I can't ever go home."

"I know." Spleenk offered a reassuring grip on the Vortian's hand, "Neither can I."

The Captian unexpectedly wrenched his hand out of the other alien's grip. Frustrated, fighting back tears of rage and regret and crushing defeat he explained, "I'm sorry, I just – I _can't_ ,"

Spleenk just nodded. "It's all right."

Purple took in the sight of his counterpart and felt the pain in his chest that was becoming all too familiar. Red looked so small. A child on stilts loaded with a burden far too heavy for him to carry and still maintain balance. He understood with perfect clarity what the terrified, vulnerable expression on Red's face meant. It was one of the few times when he would share the same emotional sensations as his partner simply by looking at him. He knew that right now the crimson-eyed Irken was feeling as if the floor beneath him had given out, and his stomach was lurching from the free-fall.

Purple approached his partner with a degree of caution, but Red caught his eyes before he ever reached out. They held each other's gaze for a long moment before Red turned his face back to the monitor, watching as the news network ran a computer-simulation of the explosion. As the computerized planet erupted into a brilliant glow of white light, Red spoke in a voice only Purple could hear.

"Enough fire for you yet?"

Purple didn't understand for a moment what in the world Red was talking about but after running the sentence through his head a few times, it hit him like a fist to the stomach.

" _I don't think there's enough fire call it an apocalypse yet."_

" _So you need fire to have an apocalypse now?"_

" _Raging fire is a basic staple of any apocalypse worth having."_

Staring at the images on the screen in front of him, Purple wondered if maybe he'd been right.

"Murderer!" Smikka Smikka Smoodoo shouted angrily, glaring sharply in the direction of his pointed finger, "This is _your fault_ , do you hear me?!"

Red shrank under accusation but only one occupant of the room noticed.

The yellow creature snarled, "You destroyed a planet and butchered your own kind! But I guess that's all in a day's work for the two of you, isn't it?"

The crew was confused when the former Irken leader quietly rose to his feet without meeting anyone's eyes and instead of offering the explanation they anticipated, he turned away and left the bridge without a word.

Nobody knew _what_ to say, so nothing was said until Purple shook his head and sighed with a cold and frighteningly calm presence about him. "Did that make a difference for you, Smikka Smikka Smoodoo? Did it change anything? Because I'm _still_ reading a great big _nothing_ where there used to be a planet!" He shouted. "Blaming me is a shitty thing to do, but blaming Red is even _worse_. We're only as guilty as you are. We _all_ agreed on a course of action, and he was the only one who tried to warn us otherwise! We all knew the risks, and we almost lost a hell of a lot more than Vort!" Purple reminded, "We almost lost Tenn and damn near a fifth of the refugees, an entire starship, _and_ it's crew. You want to trade that for a piece of rock?! If you're going to stand there and tell me all those innocent lives, the nearly two-thousand of them, aren't worth it, what does that make _you_ , then?"

Smikka Smikka Smoodoo had no reply, nor did he raise his head to meet Purple's expression. The latter turned away and put a palm to his forehead in exasperation. "Universe knows, I've seen that Irken at his worst and don't think that just because I love him I've forgotten, or that I'm all right with it in the least. I love him _because_ I remember. Because I've seen him change and I know he's not ever going to be that way again."

The timid silence was broken with a delicate, unexpected voice. "…How can you know that?" It was a genuine question, asked with innocence and genuine curiosity.

Purple wondered briefly if Spleenk was capable of being offensive as he paused before exiting the flight deck. He took a deep breath and sighed, turned his head around just enough to catch the four-armed alien's eyes, offering a strange sort of half-smile no one could really place. "Because he loves me."

"My mistake then," Smikka Smikka Smoodoo replied with some angry sarcasm, "call the preacher and send for both houses – let's get you two witnessed by the ancestors!" He made a disgusted noise, "I don't _care_ how much you claim to love each other, it's your reason for _everything_ and it's getting redundant!"

The way Purple glared at him made the yellow screw-headed-creature regret opening his mouth. "I'm _aware_ of how little you care, as you made it _quite clear_ from the moment we arrived. I am _not_ as dense as you might think. But since _you_ clearly were not blessed with even a miniscule drop of intelligence, I'll spell it out.

If there's one of us you ought to be afraid of, it's _me_. I snapped before he did. I've done things to him I'll never be able to forgive myself for, things he _shouldn't_ have forgiven me for. Things I don't think he could forgive if I ever did them again. Red watched me become a monster. He watched the only thing he had left turn into what he hated – what he _swore_ he'd never become – and the only thing he could do for the sake of his own sanity was to ignore it. He had to stand there and watch me laugh when I ordered people to be spaced. He let me touch him with hands he knew were covered with innocent blood hours earlier. Can you even _fathom_ the kind of betrayal that is?! I've seen what I've done to him, and I know what it would do if I ever did those things again. If you're still confused, or have any questions, I'll be in my quarters. You can just wait outside until I'm done repairing the damage you've caused."

Silence fell over the crew following the former Irken dictator's exit. Silence so heavy and cold it froze the words inside everyone's throat as footsteps dissipated, so overwhelming it somehow managed to mask even the sounds of the ship. It was a terrible quiet that made them feel wrong and dirty in a way none of them had thought possible and somehow, that made it worse. None of them had considered that Irk's former Tallest could have caused _each other_ such profound suffering while together forcing destruction and pain on the universe.

Now, though, knowing what they did about the Empire - that Red and Purple had merely been scapegoats for a larger agenda, ordered to pull the proverbial (or literal) trigger while the barrel of a second gun was pressed against the other's head – it was harder and harder to hold them responsible. Yes, they still carried out their orders and to a degree and it could be argued that made them guilty by association, and while it was true that no one the ship forgave them entirely, it could not be denied that it was a gray moral area.

What served to further complicate the issue was everyone's own unique history. Each species had it's own code of values, it's own traditions, and each crewmember had expounded their cultural inheritance based on their particular life experience. One thing that was true of a large majority was that being forced to question those beliefs and traditions made them uncomfortable, to say the least. The level of discomfort in the room reached new levels as the crew exchanged glances that struggled to hide their own guilt or cover up their sympathy. For so many of them, their instinctual responses to everyday issues were perfectly lined up with what was designated "acceptable" within their own personal philosophies. Since their arrival, Red and Purple had done noting but force everyone into uncomfortable territory – and it was not primarily a response to Red's typical R-rated remarks. They no longer had a focus to direct the brunt of their hatred and anger. It was so much easier to hate something with a physical form than to hold an abstract responsible (unless you were one of the Universe's few creatures of the abstract. But such was not the case in this particular situation).

While information about the specific nature of the punishments they had endured was sparse and vague to most of the crew, even that small bit of knowledge had been enough to stir sympathy. Irk and anything associated with it – _particularly_ the Tallests responsible for Operation Impending Doom II, was in no way, shape, or form supposed to evoke feelings at _that_ end of the spectrum. Most of them had chosen to write those instincts off entirely and just ignore the former dictators whenever they happened to cross paths, and maybe offer an angry, unforgiving and depending on the situation, spiteful glare. The ship was a Vortian Explorer-Class vessel, and despite her enormity, one thing that held true throughout the entire universe was that even faster than the speed of sound or light was the speed at which word seemed to travel. Not long after the ranking members of the Resistance had their first meeting with the two Irkens, the entire ship had heard some version of it. Specifically, how there had been something their one-time-oppressors had gone through that was so traumatic it made Som Saa, the legendary Meekrobian war veteran and the planet's current acting Military General of Interplanetary Warfare, puke his proverbial brains out.

It was a great deal to process and it was a difficult situation to accept, which made it easy to fall into familiar patterns when something went wrong. It was much less complicated to forget they'd ever considered enlightenment, and just go back to the way they'd always reacted because it was easier. Staying within one's comfort zone was always the safe and practical choice. It was logical and made sense. No matter how strongly they empathized with the former Irken dictators, or how much their hearts argued that they were all part of the same fight, that just because it was harder to believe it wasn't any less true, their minds would always argue that they could never be sure, and why risk so much when they had such a good thing going for them.

Moments like this, when their hearts won out and the only thing in their heads was the reminder that they had not been the only people that had lost something, that their individual motivations for fighting the Empire were not the only valid ones… it all managed to really hit home. The realization that by playing it safe, they stood to lose so much more than they would gain felt like an anvil they could only stand frozen in place to watch as it fell toward them. Their fellow crewmember's accusation gave a voice to the thought so many of them hadn't gotten the chance to articulate, and it had finally prompted them to understand that they all signed on for different reasons but they all came from the same place – and Red and Purple were no different.

No one present was a stranger to loss. Not one of them could say despair had not been a frequent companion.

And Smikka Smikka Smoodoo had been right – Red and Purple often reasoned that their personal relationship was an answer for almost every important question but none of them, save the Captain, knew why they should accept _that_ as a satisfactory answer. The crew had wanted proof at the beginning that this wasn't a trap or a scheme; that their Captain hadn't been cloned, replaced with an android replica, or just finally gone insane under pressure, and after a lot of explaining they still demanded reassurance. One reason why they ought to be trusted.

They couldn't have known how much those three simple, overused, and clichéd words implied when the two former leaders first arrived. Rumor was that Purple had been about to beat Som Saa to a bloody pulp when Red stopped him with a grip on his wrist and a look the two exchanged. Some of them joked Red had Purple whipped, or something of a derogatory nature. Now, there was an understanding among them that it hadn't been a threat; it had been a look that begged the other not to regress, to remember who he was and where they were and that he was legitimately worried. To overcome such life-changing events and somehow find the ability to forgive each other while still remaining mindful was a curious thing.

While in power, they could have easily had the other assassinated. It wasn't about the sex; they could have just as easily found a replacement or indulged in something else that was just as satisfying in it's own right. It wasn't guilt that kept them together all this time, nor was it desperation or neediness. They were simply better for having the other around. They did not complete each other, as neither of them was dependent or empty, but they _complemented_ each other, and everyone was surprised at how they had failed to notice it before. After a long, pensive moment, someone finally dared to speak.

"Wow, you're an ASSHOLE!"

Shloonktapooxis was nothing, if not honest.

* * *

Purple knew that words would have no effect on his companion at a time like this. If he wanted to communicate with Red, he'd have to do it in a language his partner would understand. He felt something twist painfully in his chest at the sight of the red-eyed Irken sitting at the long edge of their bed. He was stoic and unmoving with his face turned toward the floor. His eyes were hard and frustrated but he wasn't crying. He had told Purple once he only cried over things that were important, like when his partner was hurt.

" _What about when_ you're _hurt?"_ Purple had asked, sitting beside his friend at a time when they were still somewhat green and hopeful.

" _I told you, I only cry over things worth crying over."_

" _And you don't think you're worth that much?"_

" _Sorry."_ He shrugged.

Purple sighed. _"No._ I'm _sorry."_

" _Why?"_

" _Because if that's what you think, then you_ really _do have something to cry about."_

He sat beside the other in silence for a moment, and then without a word took hold of one of Red's hands. "You're really going to believe him?"

Red offered no reply, which was a direct enough answer for Purple.

"You know he's an idiot and he's looking for someone to blame."

"Doesn't mean he's wrong."

"Yes, he is. I know you don't believe that."

"Have you forgotten the last… how many fucking years? This was an unintended consequence, but you know he's right. The things we've done… what we're capable of. …We laughed watching the Scarlet Junction burn. _They_ didn't even order us to do it. We just happened to be in the neighborhood. I've never seen space like that. It was incredible, and we destroyed it… you remember, don't you?"

Purple was less than proud to nod in agreement. He didn't like to think about the kind of person he used to be. Vicious and self-serving, he had a problem with impulse-control. Looking back on it, he might have behaved so wildly in an effort to propel himself toward the inevitable crash. His encounter with Ori had made him realize things he had tried so desperately to rationalize, and that revelation had been too much to cope with. He had the burden of such terrible acts and he was, to some degree, directly responsible for them – but they would have happened without him just the same. His mind often struggled with how much of the guilt was his to carry and how much was the responsibility of those who ordered the horrible tasks carried out by his hands. By the time they'd torched the Scarlet Junction, Purple knew somewhere that he was determined to push himself to the brink of his capacity for cruelty. He didn't know what would happen once he reached that point, but he figured he'd either surrender himself entirely to Their will, go mad, find a reason to redeem himself, or hate himself so much he'd stop flirting with the idea of self-conclusion and finally take up the motivation to follow through. He was still ashamed of what ultimately ended up happening, but he had resolved a long time ago that nothing could be done to change it and all he could do was leave it as it was, accept it as another life experience, and derive all the wisdom he could from it. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

There weren't many things that Purple was reluctant to talk about, as he preferred to deal with things directly and always seemed to be the one trying to convince his co-leader that communication was an effective way to resolve issues, but what they'd done to the Scarlet Junction was not a topic that had ever been up for conversation.

Smaller than a galaxy, the Scarlet Junction had been a network of 32 planets, each with two suns (except the central planet, Emiror, which had three), all arranged so that the light that reflected off the surfaces of the planets, their moons, and other stars, made the network illuminate the black void of space with every shade of red. It was a natural phenomenon, unlike anywhere else in the universe. Because of its uniqueness, the Scarlet Junction thrived. Its people were among the oldest of the known races. It was the yearly meeting place for every significant branch of academia, and most notably where the Intergalactic Award for Scientific Achievement was given.

They were a peaceful people, and had long since done away with the notion of territorial scuffles. Combat could still be learned, as a discipline, a way of life, an art, or an exercise. It was rumored that the fabled Ninja clan, Lacertous, had originated on one of the small moons of Terekon. Though most of the Junction had pantheistic religious views, other ideals and practices were welcomed. The moon of Extoll had become a center for religious life, one enormous monastery that offered free lodging and food, full access of the library to anyone who interested, and so on. Many theological students often came to study abroad, as it had not only a bountiful collection of primary-source texts but also sufficient living accommodations that did not bleed their bank accounts (pursuing a degree in Universal Theology involved more schooling than a medical practitioner had to go through, since each of the major religions had it's sects and second-cousins twice removed). The program worked just fine for those belonging to the monastery, as every new student had a story and a new perspective on the Universe, and that was something they found most invaluable. The community sustained itself through the exchange of goods, services, and donations.

Most of the order died when rest of the Junction was destroyed, but there were still several large groups that had been serving the Universal community on other worlds, building shelter and distributing food on planets stricken by disaster, or helping to nurse the wounds of smaller planets caught in the crossfire of war-torn territories. Their moral principles were simple, really. Above all things, they believed that regardless of what planet they came from, every single sentient creature should have respect for one another. The universe was vast and incomprehensible, but all those planets and people came to be the same way they had. They did not claim to know how the universe was created, if there was a God, a Great Maker, an Overseer, or a conglomeration of celestial beings responsible for shaping existence; they might not _ever_ know where it came from, but that wasn't what mattered. They did not seek to convert, only to listen. They spoke of their beliefs only when asked. It was a strange concept to most of the other worlds, but there was a great deal of wisdom in knowing that you know nothing.

The Scarlet Junction… it had everything. It was home to art, music, history, culture, and trillions of people. The two of them had been lounging on the bridge, laughing obnoxiously about something irrelevant when the pilot spoke.

" _We're coming up on the Scarlet Junction now, Sirs. ETA to destination currently 76:12:53."_

The dictators rose from their seats and stared out the Massive's panoramic glass. The sparkling system before them was nothing short of breathtaking, like shining diamonds and rubies arranged across black velvet. They knew about the history of the Scarlet Junction, that it was teeming with life and peace… it represented everything that they could never have. It was that which would always be just outside their reach, too far away to touch but so close it always tempted them to reach out, only to be disappointed in the end. Just observing the pure, natural beauty of the nebulous light made both of them uncomfortable. It seemed to stare into their souls, gazing at them with a painful sympathy and disbelief that asked a question both of them heard echoing in their minds.

_Why?_

Silence stretched on between the two Irkens for a short time before Purple spoke.

" _Hey, Red?"_ He asked, never taking his eyes off of the Natural Wonder of the Universe before him.

" _Yeah?"_

" _I want to watch it burn."_

Red's eyes moved to his co-leader. _"You too?"_ He asked with a widening grin, which his companion returned. _"Hey! …Whoever's flying this thing! We're gonna take a little detour."_

" _You know,"_ Purple said, only addressing the red-eyed Irken, _"Sometimes, this job isn't all that bad."_

Red pulled Purple aside, into the hallway and out of view. His hands gripped his partner's hips as he arched against Purple, who just barely stifled the moan he couldn't prevent. _"No,"_ he said, biting Purple's neck, _"it's not."_

His partner let out a low growl, _"Don't start something you can't finish."_

" _Oh, I_ plan _to finish. Several times."_

" _My mistake. I seem to have forgotten how ambitious you are."_

" _Looks like I'll just have to make sure you commit it to memory, then."_

" _So why are we still standing here?"_

" _I'll meet you in the bedroom. I've got to give the driver instructions."_

" _Don't keep me waiting."_

" _Have I ever?"_

True to his word, Purple hadn't waited long at all for Red to find him. It had been good, physically satisfying, but it always felt like something was missing. He chose to ignore that, though. Without giving even the slightest hint of the last few hours, Red and Purple stood on the bridge, within range of the scarlet abyss. A thought began to surface in Purple's mind, a quote he'd come across while going through some of the Earth literature Zim had sent. He and Red would sometimes go through these items for laughs, as there was _always_ bound to be something new and absurd – like those books about that "vampire" who "dazzles" in the sunlight. The Nosferatu were, in reality a species from the planet Vahamphire in the Drackulah System. Their native world had 67 moons, and their rotation coupled with that of the planet only provided 2-6 hours of light per day, depending on the season. They were a species born in the dark, and they evolved to suit their environment. Their body temperature changed to harmonize with their climate, and all of their internal systems necessary for survival were equipped for such a thing. They were basically immune to the cold. The humans had been right about their eating habits; the Nosferatu _did_ derive most of their nourishment from blood. They were really unable to leave their world, for the most part, without an artificially created environment because they would literally overheat and burst into flames, which was another thing the humans had been correct about. Purple reasoned that an Earth-creature must have been abducted by some species carrying a Nosferatu on board, observed a few things, and drawn their own conclusions. The Nosferatu _did_ consume blood, burst into flames in direct sunlight, but they most certainly, did _not_ "dazzle".

Humans. Such pathetic and feeble creatures. Purple was surprised, on occasion, to discover that there _were_ some who defied his basic assumption and proved to be of a much greater intelligence than the majority. He found he rather appreciated the musings of those dubbed "philosophers", and had taken to reading their work.

The words hadn't felt nearly as insightful when they resurfaced that day, as he stood waiting for the ship's laser cannon to warm up. Purple muttered to himself so not even Red could hear his voice, _"He who fights with monsters might take care, lest he thereby become a monster himself."_ He stared out the window, feeling a horrible, proud hatred, _"Also, when you gaze for long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you."_

" _Firing in five… four… three… two…"_

Purple smiled slowly, taking in the explosion before him. Renewed and vindicated, he could not help but feel a sense of victory. Sharing a glance with his co-leader, he saw the same sadistic delight in Red's eyes, and they laughed.

"We're not like that anymore."

"What if we _are_?"

"We're _not_." Purple replied forcefully. The two finally made eye contact and Red was not expecting the intensity burning in his partner's eyes. "I'd never do anything that would make you suffer like that again. And I know you wouldn't either."

Red sighed, "That's just it, Pur. If I lost you, Universe forbid… not a damn thing would cross my path and live to talk about it. I'd be worse than before, and you wouldn't be there to stop me. You know what I'm capable of."

"Then promise me."

"Promise you what?"

"Promise me that however far down the line, if something happens to me… I want you to promise me you won't change."

Red shook his head vigorously in disagreement. "No. I can't. No, I – how can you _ask_ me that? How can you ask me _not_ to grieve for you?"

"I never said that." Purple replied calmly, laying his free hand against his partner's cheek, "I expect you to grieve. I'd be inconsolable if I lost you, and I don't hold you to a different standard. I just don't want you to lose yourself. I don't want to be the reason you become what you hate, _again._ I don't want you to have a moment when you realize I'm gone and you hate yourself for what you've let happen because you know how much it upset me the first time. I know we'll both most likely go down together in the end, but for some reason if we don't, it's all right if you grieve. I'm not asking you to promise me you'll get over it in an hour and keep on with your life. I just want you to promise you'll stay _you_."

Red sighed, "I don't know." He wouldn't make a promise unless intended to keep it.

"I know what I'm asking seems impossible. I know how much it hurts to think about having to live without me. It's agony just thinking about the possibility that I might lose you. But I know you wouldn't ever want me to go down that road again. And that's the only thought that would keep me together. So if you're worried that you'd get so overwhelmed you'd forget what I'd want, then promise me so you'll remember."

Red looked at his partner for a long time, and Purple could see the internal struggle manifesting in his features. He carefully wrapped his arms around Red and drew the conflicted Irken into a firm, comforting embrace. He felt Red starting to shudder intermittently and held him as close as he could.

"I love you, Red. At least promise me you'll remember that."

Red choked and held his partner tighter, and Purple had experience enough to know he was on the verge of tears. Being Red, though, Purple also knew he'd refuse to cry until his body forced it out.

He broke with a loud, forceful sob that shook his entire form. "…Yes," he managed, in between breathless fits of tears, "I promise… I promise, I promise…."

"Nothing you've done and nothing you can do is ever going to change that. I'm yours. You're stuck with me forever."

He struggled to speak, but he still hadn't calmed down enough to form anything close to a coherent sentence.

"I promise, Red. You don't ever have to question that." Purple just held the other Irken and allowed him to cry. As much as he hated when Red was upset, it was somewhat comforting when he would finally break down. The red-eyed Irken had a terrible habit of keeping everything to himself and holding it in until he couldn't take any more. Purple couldn't deny he was glad to know his partner wasn't trying to hide how the events of earlier had affected him.

Gradually, Red cried himself out. Once his tears tapered off and he had collected himself, he took a deep, shaking breath and withdrew from his partner far enough to make sufficient eye contact.

"Are you all right?" Purple asked with a considerable degree of concern.

"I just cried my guts out," he laughed, "what kind of question is that?"

"Fair enough." Purple returned the small smile his partner had given him, and watched as it gave way to a serious expression. He ran a hand down the back the other Irken's head, "What is it?"

Any trace of confidence was gone from the red-eyed Irken. His antennas laid flat against his head and he seemed to shrink away when he met his partner's eyes. "I thought about it. …What you asked me before, about… if something happened to you…"

Purple opened his mount to speak, but Red's expression told his partner that he still had something left to say. Purple conceded and waited for Red to finish.

"…I thought about it… and I promise."

Purple decided to forgo words entirely and responded by pulling his partner into an unexpected, deep kiss. It wasn't frantic or needy but rather, delicate and intentional, with so much passion Red half-expected his lungs to collapse, but it didn't make him any less eager to find his partner's lips after breaking for only as much air as was necessary. Stupid lungs, if only they didn't have to breathe Purple could kiss him like this for hours without having to break apart for a second. He felt the violet-eyed Irken's fingers working the clasps of his armor and sighed as he heard the familiar click of the last metal fastening coming undone and felt the heavy weight slide off his chest. He reached his hands around Purple and quickly returned the favor, tearing off his gauntlets before frantically working on removing his partner's. After Purple's arms were free, Red's hands went to his partner's waist with the intention of removing his hover-belt and lower robe when Purple's hand caught his wrist and pulled it away. Red looked at him with a confused expression, worried that maybe he'd done something wrong.

Purple didn't say anything. He simply released the grip on his partner's wrist and went to work removing the rest of Red's clothes. Purple kissed he other chastely on the lips and Red understood what he was asking. He laid back and waited while Purple took a moment to study Red's body. He smiled before he took in the familiar, aging scars and ran a hand over the uneven planes of his chest.

"You know something, Red?"

"Mm?"

"I don't even see any of this when I look at you."

Purple's hands were _everywhere_ , except the one place Red would have liked them to be, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain focus on anything but the wonderful sensations Purple knew full well he was provoking. "What are you talking about?" He arched into a particularly pleasant touch, and then took a gasping breath that he exhaled as a hiss as the violet-eyed Irken coiled one of Red's antennas around his finger.

Purple leaned in close and whispered, "I love you."

Red captured his partner's lips in a kiss that set a rush of heat through Purple's blood. The Irken beneath him gasped, throwing his head back involuntarily when Purple brushed his hand across Red's inner thigh. Purple took the opportunity to kiss Red's neck, gently sucking and biting at the spots he knew Red had a weakness for. Slowly, Purple made his way down the other's body, using everything he had learned about its preferences over the years to please it. Red was incoherent long before Purple even _really_ touched him; lust pounded in his skull but he had no desire to give in just yet. He felt his partner's lips pressed against his hip, his thigh, inside his knee, oh god, his inner thigh, and then the same progression repeated on his other leg.

"You okay so far?"

The sight of Purple between his legs shouldn't have made the heat pool in his stomach like that after all these years, but it was just as effective now as it had ever been. "You don't know what it does to me… seeing you like that…"

Purple grinned in a satisfied fashion, "Oh Sweetheart," he said, placing a delicate kiss to a part of Red's anatomy that would have earned them both an execution on Irk, "I think I know _exactly_ what it does to you." He finished, closing his hand around his partner. Red bucked his hips and made an assortment of loud, strangled noises, trying to assert some sort of self-control and failing miserably.

Purple's steady, even strokes were intentionally just shy of enough to be maddening. Red could no longer think about anything except the rising lust in his brain and his body was begging Purple for release. It was still too soon, though, he knew it somewhere, and his body would just have to wait. "Nghh, ahh, Purrr… s…ss-stop, please, I don't… not yet…" He managed.

Purple understood and obliged Red's request. Red struggled to control is breathing while his hips jerked a few times, still anticipating the friction they hadn't realized was gone. "Red… are you all right?" The concern in Purple's voice was strong and even in his lust-induced delirium, Red could make it out.

"…Yes… just, ahh," he hissed as he inhaled sharply, "need a minute…"

The violet-eyed Irken ran his hand across the other's forehead. "Maybe we should stop, Red… I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm fine, Sweetheart. I wanted to go a bit longer, I just need a minute to catch my breath."

"You know the kind of stress this puts on the body."

"If it wasn't so damn fun, breeding would've died out a long time ago."

"I'm not laughing, Red. What happens if your Pak shorts out?"

"It wouldn't be a bad way to go."

Purple's expression indicated that he was not pleased.

"I really am fine, Pur. If you're uncomfortable with it, though, we can stop."

Purple kissed him. "You know I wouldn't take you this far if I didn't plan on finishing you off."

Red's hands found his partner's waist and he tossed his Purple's hover-belt to the floor quickly followed by his violet lower-robe. "I want you."

"I'm right here, Red."

"Tell me you love me."

"I love you. You know I love you."

"Show me how much."

"You're sure?"

Red smiled. "You always ask. I've never changed my answer."

"Is that a 'yes'?"

"Yes."

* * *

The Captain just sat in his quarters, still too shocked to be considered fully conscious. His mind disassociated from the present circumstances in order to preserve itself, as if he were outside his body, watching himself watch nothing at all while he tried unsuccessfully to accept what had happened. His bunk was a mess from when he'd torn through it earlier. He stormed through as if mimicking a hurricane until his body gave out and he finally collapsed, sobbing and screaming. When his voice grew tired, only the tears persisted as he managed to climb off the floor and onto his bed. He'd been sitting there, cross-legged and crying without a thought in his brain-dead body ever since.

It was too much.

Part of him was inwardly chastising his behavior, insisting that he was acting like a child and he ought to grow up. What did he think this was going to be like, it asked him, a peaceful transition? Had he really thought that no one would have to make profound and painful sacrifices? How the hell had he expected the resistance to fight, and _win_ , against a group violent lunatics? Until now, everything Red and Purple had recounted, all the pain they had endured… it had all been so abstract. He knew, intellectually, what had happened and what it must have felt like but the reality of it never quite hit him. He knew that what he was feeling now couldn't begin to touch what they'd survived, but it did spark a terrible, overwhelming sickness. For the first time, he really _saw_ what he was up against; the sheer magnitude of just a _fraction_ of their capabilities was so far beyond terrifying, that no species had yet established a word capable of articulating it.

He thought of Tenn, still unconscious in the medical bay. He swore he could feel the blood on his hands from tending to her wound. He thought he might be sick for a moment when he remembered the sensation of it soaking through his pants at the knee. Her face, contorted in pain and agony as the lasers seared her wound shut from the inside out. The frantic screaming and sobbing she'd finally succumbed to once she was unable to suppress it any longer echoed in his head and it had only taken _one_ of them to do all that. He'd never seen that kind of pain before. He had done a decent job keeping all that out of his thoughts until now. Everything hit him all at once and from out of nowhere and he couldn't even _begin_ to fathom how to react.

Part of him wanted to be alone and part of him was desperate for comfort. The part of him that mourned the loss of his home cried out for familiarity, and another part wanted to drown it out entirely. To forget that he was responsible for destroying his world and that he'd made the decision that resulted in the deaths of nearly a thousand people (since they'd last reported). All those people… all that life, gone in a single instant. He thought of Tenn and he hoped that none of those that had perished when Vort exploded had suffered.

He thought back to his time working on Vort all those years ago, _before_ it had been conquered and "updated". He'd engineered a ton of things for the Irken Empire… fuck, he'd engineered the Massive. Owaiin was responsible for it's design but he'd been the one to make it work. How many people had been killed by the weapons he'd made? He wasn't the one who pulled the trigger but he'd put in the hands of those who did. Ignoring the voice in the back of his mind that advised against it, Lard Nar found the footlocker stashed under his bed and pulled out a bottle of something he didn't waste time reading the label of (all he cared about was the alcohol percentage)… he didn't fucking care _what_ it was, so long as it would be enough to get him good and drunk.

* * *

Spleenk paced the length of his quarters nervously. He wanted to check on Lard Nar to see how the Vortian was handling things, but he knew that the situation was delicate, at best. He could not predict how the Captain would react to his presence, and the last thing Spleenk wanted to do was to agitate him further. He could not imagine what the Vortian was feeling; and _that_ was the thought that worried him the most.

Spleenk was familiar with grief. It tore you apart until you were too weak to fight anymore, swallowed you whole, and left you to fend for yourself in a deep, dark place. It was a suffering so great that in order to cope, one had to numb themselves entirely to the rest of the outside world. It was a frightening, isolating feeling that fed off you like a parasite until there was nothing left of the person you once were. Spleenk had become well acquainted with that notion in the past, and had since resolved to use it to help others. Experience had also taught him that such a revelation was not something that could be forced on someone. They had to _want_ it. Otherwise, words were nothing more than sounds.

He worried for Red and Purple, too. They had each other, though, and that _did_ provide some reassurance. Universe knew they didn't need any more tragedy in their lives. Still, he couldn't shake the acute feeling that tragedy was _far_ from over.

It's one thing to understand something as a concept or a fact. It's quite another to _grasp_ it and the extent of what it implies. He had been able to _understand_ what these… whoever they were, were capable of. He had not been able to understand how directly those facts affected each and every one of them.

If their influence had spread to Vort (and there was no denying that it had), there was no way to tell how many other worlds they had gotten to – inside _and_ outside of the Empire. _Anything_ was possible, and that was fucking scary.

They hadn't just _influenced_ Vort… they'd been _instrumental_ to its reconstruction. The cities were leveled and everything had been demolished to build the enormous prison facilities responsible for ensuring their armaments. Spleenk was by no means a strategist, or a _remotely_ linear thinker (he'd always likened his thought process to a game of connect-the-dots), but even _he_ understood the logic behind their process.

His foremother had told him a long time ago that there was only _one_ thing true of all art. He didn't understand what she meant until later in his life, and even then, he wasn't quite sure _why_ it was so significant. Only now, in light of recent events, was he able to make sense of it.

" _Form follows function, but correlation does_ not _imply causation. Remember that, Spleenk."_

Every piece of art was created for a reason, even if it was created only so the artist could deny it meant anything. Spleenk knew these people were intelligent. He also knew that only an idiot would program a fusion reactor to self-destruct, and only the heir to the throne of the kingdom of idiots would program a fusion reactor to self-destruct after sealing the exits with blast doors. If you had a breach in security, the most logical solution would be to seal the exits, _not_ set off a chain explosion of very deliberately placed fusion reactors. Location had just as much to do with their intentions as the design itself. The prisons had been built that way for a reason, but it had _nothing_ to do with security. Then again, maybe in their sick-minded way, it did. Those things had been _made_ to explode.

Form follows function. A means to an end.

All the resistance had done was set it off early, through no fault of their own. He took no pride in saying so, but Spleenk could not help thinking that maybe this was the best way it could have gone. For whatever reason, those bastards had planned from the start to destroy Vort, and somehow, Spleenk didn't get the feeling that they would have had the courtesy of transferring the prisoners or the staff before they did.

The prisons were _built_ to be death traps.

He thought that maybe these revelations would help Lard Nar to accept that what had happened wasn't his fault. He wasn't so sure he'd be able to find the right words, and he didn't want to take any risks with how fragile things were right now. He wanted more than anything to be there; Spleenk found himself sick with worry and the only thing that kept him from panicking was the thought of the Vortian. He needed to keep himself together, because eventually, Lard Nar was going to need someone to talk to, and Spleenk needed to be there, as a friend, if nothing else.

He hated moments like this. When everything around him seemed to spin farther and farther out of his control, leaving him helpless and confused. Judging from the way he'd reacted earlier, Spleenk resolved to give the Vortian some time to sort things out on his own before he'd check in.

* * *

Lard Nar was two-thirds of the way finished with his bottle of something he could no longer read, as the letters were blurring together when he completely failed to hear someone knocking outside his bunk. The sound of his door clicking shut was finally what startled the Captain, causing him to drop the bottle of liquor, immediately bringing his train of thoughts to a screeching halt.

"I didn't mean to disturb you… you didn't answer when I knocked, and I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

Lard Nar shook his head in disapproval, trying to salvage what alcohol still remained in the bottle, "Please, just go."

"…You don't have to do this alone."

The Captain laughed bitterly, "That's fucking _hysterical_ , coming from _you_."

"I'm not proud of what I did, okay? I never wanted to hurt you, and I was a selfish prick because I didn't think about your feelings. I fucked everything up. I fucked it up, and I'm sorry, okay?!"

"Well, I'm glad one of us has come to terms with the end of our relationship."

The other Vortian sighed in frustration, "What do you want from me? What do I have to do to at least get you to stop hating me?!"

"I don't want you to do _anything_. I want you to leave me the fuck alone. I thought we were pretty clear on the _don't leave the cargo bay_ thing."

Owaiin took a good look at the Captain and spoke in a pleading voice, "Shit, 'Nar, please tell me that's not what I think it is."

"That depends. What do you think it is?"

Fuck. He'd known it from the second he walked in. The room _reeked_ of booze, and Owaiin had still given the other Vortain the benefit of the doubt. He didn't want to admit that he recognized way the Captain held himself, and tried to attribute it to grief and confusion. He could not deny the liquid proof in the other's hands, and regardless of what Lard Nar thought, the realization _did_ hurt.

"You're drunk." He said, as if stating a fact.

Lard Nar screwed his features in confusion, "I don't know… it's been such a long time, I can't remember what 'drunk' feels like? If anyone on this ship can answer that, it'd be _you_ , you worthless, good-for-nothing, piece of shit!" He said with a grin, bordering on manic hysteria, on his feet and in Owaiin's face. "Do you know what it was _like_ for me after you left? One cycle, you're asking me how I feel about _marriage_ and the next, you're _gone!_ I came home, all your shit was already out of the fucking apartment, and there _you_ were, sitting at the fucking kitchen table, and all you said was that you were leaving. I gave you sixteen years of my life and you threw it away in sixteen seconds! I gave up _everything_ for you and you left me with _nothing_!"

Owaiin didn't speak, or make eye contact. Instead, he just stared painfully at the floor.

"You'll have to forgive me for not being able to forgive you, but you _fucked_ me pretty hard – and not, as Red would say, in a positive, life-affirming way."

"Is he that guy you're with now?"

Lard Nar gagged and hacked a few times, trying to keep the nausea at bay. "Fuck _no_!" He shuddered, "Just the _thought_ of _that_ is enough to make me vomit."

Owaiin shrugged, not really caring. "When did you start drinking again?"

Lard Nar looked pensive, "Well, after you left I spent a few years cashing my paychecks at the liquor store… somewhere along the line I drank myself into a two-week coma. That was pretty good motivation to get sober. Then," he sighed, "I completely destroyed my home and nearly lost a teammate and an entire crew. I think," he hiccupped, "these are special circumstances."

Owaiin looked at him seriously, "You know that's not true."

"Vort, Owaiin, I'm not a fucking _addict_. I never _was_."

"So drinking yourself into a _fucking coma_ isn't a sign of dependence?!"

"I needed _something_ to make me forget you!" He shouted, "Every fucking day I woke up, expecting you to be asleep next to me. I'd reach out to hold you, and I'd remember that you were gone. I don't know how many times in a day I'd come across something that reminded me of you, and I'd think to myself _'Owaiin would really enjoy this'_ or _'that would really make him laugh'_ and it killed me every time because it reminded me that you'd left. I was alone. How the fuck was I supposed to cope?!" He'd never intended to say these things out loud to anyone, particularly Owaiin, but he didn't seem to have control over the words leaving his mouth. "I can't fucking handle this. Not on top of what's happened today. I can't do this." He said with desperate, helpless tears in his eyes.

Owaiin looked at the other Vortian with concern in his eyes, "'Nar… you know how you get when you drink. I'm not going to leave you alone in this condition."

"Why not? That's what you do, isn't it?"

"Oh, come off it, already!" Owaiin replied with an edge to his voice, "I left you. I broke your heart. _Normal_ people get over that."

"Fuck you! I… you…" the Captain wobbled, tripping over himself and toward the other, who managed to steady him before his face made fast acquaintances with the floor. "Fuck you." He replied weakly, unable to look up, having gone completely limp in the other's arms. "I'm such a mess, Owaiin."

"That's the liquor talking." He replied gently, "You're doing the best you can. Everybody slips up once in a while."

Lard Nar just cried silently. That small bit of rationality tucked away in the back of his mind was screaming at him, as loud as it could, but the alcohol was making it harder and harder to hear. _You know what's going to happen if you don't force him to leave, and you_ don't want that. _Think of Spleenk. You could go talk to him; he wants to help you. You could even go to Red and Purple. Talk to_ anyone else _, talk to the fucking_ soda machine _if you have to, but please_ get away from him _._ He knew it, and yet, the overpowering sensation of the familiar was all too enticing. He just wanted to _forget_.

When Owaiin kissed him, Lard Nar felt a rising sickness stir in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't nausea induced by the alcohol, but rather, it was something physiological. _You're not going to stop him._ It was never even a question in the back of his mind. The voice of reason had simply resigned itself to the inevitable, without a fight.

* * *

"Well, he'll be here in a minute or two." Zim said idly.

"Great." Dib exhaled a puff of air, rocking back on his heels and swinging his arms. "…Still haven't got a plan?"

"Look, Pesky, Cheese-Headed Filth-Beast, Skoodge isn't going to just jump on the, as you humans call it, _bandwagon_. He's a loyal Irken and I've got a feeling he's not all that fond of Red and Purple."

"…Yeah, they don't seem like they were too easy to get along with for a while, there."

There was a lull between them that was broken by the _'swoosh'_ sound of the automatic metal doors opening and closing behind the stout Invader, whose eyes bulged at the sight of the Irken who had supposedly self-destructed. He also made a mental note of the human in the room, but that was not at the forefront of his concerns.

"…Z – Zim?!" He squeaked in a disbelieving, shocked voice.

"…Ehhh…hiya, Skoodge!" He waved lamely.

Dib sighed and shook his head with a hand over his face in response.

"You're alive?! B- but – I… you, he… _how_?!"

"Yeeeah, um, that's a bit of a story, actually. I think there's,"

Invader Skoodge's eyes rolled back in his head as they fluttered shut and he wobbled on his feet before his knees gave out and he promptly fainted.

"Well… that was easier than I expected." Zim stated.

The human looked at the conscious Irken incredulously, " _That_ was your plan? Shock him into unconsciousness?"

"Do you know a _better_ way to get someone's attention?"

Dib opened his mouth, then thought for a moment. Under the circumstances, there really _weren't_ many options. If Skoodge would just as quickly resort to violence as Zim used to, maybe the alien had a point. "… Sometimes, I liked you better when you were an idiot."

"I AM _ZIM_!" He shouted in mock victory, "Now hurry up and cuff him to that pole over there so I can get his weapons off him before he wakes up. They ought to hold out against the spider-legs long enough."

"Okay, I'm," Dib froze, mid-sentence, "Wait. They ' _ought to'_?"

"Yeeeah, well, I haven't exactly had time to test them out. But Skoodge has always been reasonable. And he's been a friend in the past, so I think he'll at least hear me out."

Dib shook his head with a sigh, "If we survive this, it'll be a miracle."

"Well, there goes my faith in the Almighty." The Computer muttered.

* * *

"That's never going to happen again." Lard Nar said numbly, staring at the wall opposite him and away from what he was trying not to think about.

"…Okay… I don't really understand _why_ , but if that's what you want, it won't happen again."

"It should never have happened at _all_."

"Wh,"

"Leave."

"What?"

"Go, leave, get out, relocate, pick whatever fucking synonym you want. I don't want you near me."

Owaiin made a disgusted face and quickly dressed. "Whatever, 'Nar. You've always been too much of a headcase for me, anyway."

"If you tell anyone about this, I swear on everything I've got left, I'll hunt you down and make sure you live a long, painful life."

"Don't worry. You're _nothing_ to brag about."

The Captain tried to pretend the comment didn't hurt him as much as it did.

"… That was low, I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated."

"Be frustrated _somewhere else_." Lard Nar insisted, desperately trying to keep himself together. Once the door shut and locked behind Owaiin, he tore the sheets from his bed and vowed to incinerate them after he showered. Try as he might, there was no removing the vile sickness that had sunken into his skin. No matter how hard he scrubbed, it would not wash away. _You knew this would happen_ , his conscience sighed, _and you did it anyway_. _You_ always _end up here. You had every chance to shove him out the door and you were too fucking_ weak _to do it. You did what you_ always _do and you caved in under pressure. You didn't even enjoy it. Look at yourself. All those years it took you to get back on your feet… you just went and wasted them._

He slumped to the floor and drew his knees tight to his chest, sobbing with a desperation he hadn't known before.

* * *

Purple held Red close and just watched him as he slept. It was rare moment of peaceful rest during which he was not plagued by nightmares or memories, and it made Purple grateful to see that his partner's mind was quiet. He looked remarkably youthful; his hardened, sorrowful eyes and sharp features seemed so much softer now than he'd seen them in a long time. He'd almost forgotten that soft, cautious innocence and childlike sense of adventure and wonder that had enchanted him so since they first met. Back then, there wasn't a thing Red couldn't do – or that was, at least, what he managed to make everyone believe. The innate charisma he possessed had Purple wrapped around his finger from the very start (though neither of them knew it). He had a presence about him that made everyone look at him with reverence and respect… and Purple had never understood why someone as appealing as Red had chosen someone as common as Purple saw himself.

The only thing that had ever been special about him was Red. Red was the reason that people had ever bothered to look his way. He'd been very quiet and withdrawn until he met the other Irken, and he supposed that by interacting with him so much, he had managed to develop effective social skills. Purple supposed it _did_ help that he was extraordinarily capable in combat.

Whatever it was, it didn't really matter. Here and now, he was simply grateful for the look on Red's face. It had been so many years since he'd seen it that Purple was slightly disturbed to realize he'd forgotten what it looked like. It was hard to believe that the Irken in his arms was the same person that had been capable of the things he'd seen. Purple posed to himself the question of whether or not Red ever looked at him and saw similar things. He hoped not.

His thoughts turned to the Scarlet Junction again. He desperately wished them to settle on _anything_ but that, and he assumed that his instinctual aversion was the best reason to face them. They had really felt an honest sense of accomplishment, as if punishment for bearing witness to their sins had somehow been rendered. Purple could never explain how it felt, to stare out into that endless, sparkling eternity while it stared back into the endless, dark void of his soul. That kind of vulnerability was not something he could afford. He and Red had stood on observation deck and laughed together while the 32 planets before them smoldered and burned into nothing.

He remembered the way his blood ran cold when the disturbingly polite series of knocks sounded at their bedroom door later that day. He and Red had exchanged a terrified glance and tried to camouflage their horror. The two of them were nothing short of shocked when the cloaked group of Irkens, for the first time, did not greet them with force.

_"Come with us."_

They just looked to each other, confused and somewhat lightheaded; as if they'd fallen into a dream world. They were lead through a series of hallways and down an elevator that neither Red nor Purple could ever hope to remember the exact location of, and finally into the chamber filled with the ghosts of unpleasant memories past and those of so many yet to be.

They were not bound or restrained and no one had harmed them in any way. Neither of them had a very good feeling about the circumstances. There was a certain familiarity in pain, and without it, they were at a loss for what exactly they ought to feel. It really hadn't occurred to Purple until now how much that statement said about how wrong things truly were.

They never saw his face, not ever; the one who Red and Purple had both in their minds designated as the leader, just that unnerving, knowing, shit-eating grin. _"Oh, come now, let's do away with these formalities."_ Said the familiar voice in a congenial tone. He was sitting comfortably in a very ornate, old-fashioned, but comfortable-looking chair. He glanced around him and snapped his fingers. Immediately, two chairs were set in front of the pair of very confused Irkens. _"I apologize for that,"_ he said, followed by a melodramatic sigh, _"good help is hard to come by these days. Please, sit. Make yourselves comfortable."_

Purple's head was spinning.

_"We'd rather stand,"_ Red replied with his arms crossed, eyeing the chair suspiciously, _"if it's all the same to you."_

_"Very well, I simply wanted to extend the courtesy. You've done nothing wrong; neither of you were brought here to be punished."_ He explained.

_"Then why_ were _we brought here?"_ Red asked.

_"I know we haven't always seen eye to eye on… certain things. I know we haven't had the most pleasant of interactions in the past."_

_"Gee, what makes you think_ that _?! Was it the burning me with acid or giving him electric fucking shocks that clued you in?!"_ The crimson-eyed Tallest shouted angrily.

_"Please, Red, don't do this…."_ Purple begged quietly.

_"You should listen to your Co-Tallest more often, Red. Seeing as you've both earned a place in my favor today, I'll let that little quip of yours slide."_

There were no words that could properly articulate the level of confusion both Irkens shared.

_"I simply invited you both down here because I wished to congratulate you."_

Red and Purple exchanged a hopeless, desperately confounded expression.

_"What you boys did today, with the Scarlet Junction…_ that _was a job well done."_ He smiled. A real, honest smile.

It scared the shit out of them both.

_"You've both been doing some fine work with your orders as of late, and you even managed to destroy the Scarlet Junction on your own. It's nice to see you both taking such initiative. Good work should not go unacknowledged, you know."_

The Tallest just stood there, slack-jawed and unable to move.

_"I never thought I'd be able to say it, considering how reluctant you both were at first, but I have to say, I'm proud of you."_

And that had been when Purple's downward spiral finally came to a painful, head-on crash.

* * *

**Allusions and Refrences**

There are way too many references to _"Backseat Drivers From Beyond the Stars"_ here.

Zim's **military research career** , his comment regarding the Massive about how **it'd never fly** , and **Tallest Miyuki** is a reference to the episode-that-never-was, _"The Trial"_

**Sizz-Lorr** is from the episode, _"The Frycook What Came From All That Space"_

The **time-stasis field** Dib mentions is from the episode, _"Walk for Your Lives"_

The **Scarlet Junction** is a reference to _Doctor Who._

The term " **Great Maker"** is taken from _Babylon 5_.

The **"Overseer"** is a very subtle and vague nod to the game _Fallout 3_.

**"Only an idiot** would... **only the heir to the throne of the kingdom of idiots** would..." is from _Babylon 5_

**The only true wisdom consists in knowing that you know noting** is the musing of Socrates (or Bill and Ted.)

The **vampire who "dazzles" in sunlight** is a lighthearted jab at the _Twilight_ series. I don't mean to judge anybody's tastes; Universe knows, I've got tastes of my own that even _I_ can't make sense of. I'm a veteran fan of _Buffy_ and _Angel_ (particularly the last few seasons of _Angel_ , when it started to get brilliant, just before the axe fell on it), and, well... _dazzling_? Come on, at least find a better word than _dazzle_. My theory has always been, "if you don't like it, don't read/watch/do it", so I'm not vehemently opposed to _Twilight_ , or anything. It's meant to be satirical, not mean.

The philosopher Purple quotes about **he who fights with monsters** is Fredrich Nietzsche. I reference him quite a bit.

Red's line about if sex **weren't so much fun, breeding would've died out a long time ago** is from the _House, M.D._ episode, _"Sex Kills"_

The bit where the Computer responds to Dib, " **there goes my faith in the Almighty** " is another one from _Babylon 5._

* * *

**Notes**

This chapter was pretty heavy, and I didn't want to weigh it down any more by dragging it out. I had intended to include another reveal about the villains, but I ended up deciding that it was better to resolve the character dilemmas first, to keep the plot from getting too messy. There are some _major_ threads in this chapter that will become absolutely crucial later on. I also find myself debating the inclusion of the more explicit scenes. I try to keep them as tasteful as I can, and honestly use them for a reason; here, in particular, I wanted to present the stark contrast of Red and Purple's dynamic with the one between Lard Nar and Owaiin. I hope I'm not going overboard with it.

Lard Nar really bore the brunt of the trauma in this one. I didn't shove him into these circumstances because I'm a sick freak; as a character, he needed to break. If he's going to be the Captain of a resistance that wants to have any real chance of surviving against our black-hooded friends, he needs to make executive decisions. He needs to learn to stay calm and how to assert himself, and as a character, he needs a motivation to do that. Owaiin's a bit of an opportunistic bastard. Rest assured, Lard Nar _will_ eventually heal, and be better for it.

I promise, the pace really starts to pick up next chapter. I don't know _when_ I'll be able to get it finished, but I'm going to try my damnedest to get it up before Otakon. Somewhere between 8-hour studio days, job applications and interviews, and finding time to make two costumes (well, atleast _one_. I really need to invest in a dress form. If I had a job, that wouldn't be so difficult. I hate being poor), I'm _going_ to get this done.)

**Purple's fighting style** is how a friend of mine fights, for the most part.

The conversation about **crying over important things** is actually a real-life conversation I had with a friend.

Please review, if you've got a second to spare. I really like to know how I'm doing, and what you all think.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**To my loyal Readers and Reviewers**... you're bloody brilliant, all of you. Thanks for keeping me going. Every time I thought about throwing in the towel and saying "fuck it, no one cares about this shit anyway," (breakup-induced self-loathing) all I had to do was look at the reviews and story stats and it was enough to prove myself wrong. You all keep me inspired. My love and thanks to each one of you!

* * *

**\- 8 -**

"Will one of you _please_ be so kind as to enlighten me," he started in a frighteningly calm tone of voice, " _how_ this happened _without_ my authorization?" He gestured to the image of Vort exploding on the large screen, "I know those two idiots weren't responsible. They're too new to the position. No, _this_ could only have been done by someone with knowledge of the system. That means it was either one of _you_ , or it was _me._ Clearly, since I'm bewildered here, I think it's safe to assume that I had no part in giving the order. Let's not have a mess on our hands. Who was responsible for this?"

Heads covered in black fabric stared at the ground, nervous tension buzzing in their skulls.

"…Well?" The one in the ornate chair sighed, "I'm waiting."

A long, awkward pause followed, until a small voice weakly broke the silence.

"M…maybe it was K…Khal. You know… b-by accident. M-m-maybe someone b-broke… maybe someone broke in, or you know, an e-escape attempt… and he just ran out of options… or maybe one of the IT guys was trying to restructure the network, and it activated the p-protocol. Most…most of us were at the ceremony that day... incase you needed us."

He seemed to be considering this from underneath his dark hood. "You make a fair point. And I suppose if I can't trust you, it means we're no better than those stupid animals that call themselves sentient. Still," he mused, "something about this just doesn't sit right with me. To trust blindly is naive."

"But what about our way?" A voice from those assembled before him said, "We do not harm one another; those in pursuit of the ultimate perfection, the best possible world, must recognize his fellow man and they must stand together against the misguided and the fallen."

"Yes, Saav. But what of it when the misguided and the fallen are among you? Or when your fellow brethren fall from grace?"

Gasps of shock echoed through the crowd.

"Impossible, Sir!"

"Is it? My brethren, the tipping point fast approaches. You know your history. You have learned what the Universe looked like _before_ we organized. You have heard of the chaos and anarchy that existed in the days before we reigned behind the throne. You know of the passion that so quickly turned to bloodshed and hatred man developed for his fellow man. The class structures, the power struggles, the economic disparity. The Universe cried out for justice and it was _us_ who picked up the sword in Her name. You have been taught of the horrific trends of violence and slaughter that rise and fell like tides. You would do well to remember what happened when the madness of so-called "sentient" creatures turned itself in our direction. There were even those of us who abandoned our simple, basic principles in pursuit of things like wealth and glory. For so long, our forbearers have been forced to hide their heads. I promise you this, in the name of those who have come before me, we _will not fail_. We will have our vindication. The Universe will never weep again. We _will_ have our time. I ask you all to remember what you stand for, and I ask you now to defend it, even among your own kind. Should there be a traitor in our midst, we will find them soon enough."

An enthusiastic roar of approval and applause echoed through the underground, cathedral-esque setting. Cheers and shouts joy echoed proudly, not a single figure standing still or uninspired by their leader's words. When he spoke, he spoke for everyone. His singular voice had the power to articulate and address each and every one of them. He was not a leader such that he was given any sort of power over his assembly, but rather, he gave them direction.

With a panoramic glance around the overjoyed room, he reclined in his chair with a satisfied smile. He thought for a moment as the applause died and he dismissed them and people slowly filtered back to their designated tasks. He activated his COM, "Tya," he began, waiting for a response.

"Here, Sir."

"Good. I need to have a chat with the Tallest. There's no need to harm them… yet."

"Understood, Sir." With that, taller female Irken entered a sequence on her COM. "Delivery orders. Undamaged goods. Stock room in six."

* * *

Once he felt steady enough on his feet, Lard Nar had managed to pull himself together for what he hoped was long enough to accomplish his objective. That objective was, luckily, down the hall and to the right so he didn't have far to go, but the last thing he wanted was to be seen in this condition by one of his crewmembers. He was their leader and they needed to believe in him, it was _his_ duty to reassure them that he was competent and fit for command… the resistance was all he had left and Lard Nar could not bear the thought of losing it.

He needed to get out of his bunk; that much, he knew. Staying there would only make matters worse, and as much as he hated the thought of what he was about to do, he hated the thought of being alone in his quarters even more.

With a sigh and the best façade he could possibly conjure, the Captain cautiously opened his door and checked for signs of life, listening carefully for the sound of approaching footsteps. When he was convinced to his satisfaction that he was alone, he locked the door behind him and bolted faster than he'd ever run in his entire life down the hall and to the right.

* * *

Purple's train of thought was interrupted by a loud series of frantic knocks outside the door. He felt Red stir in his arms, still half asleep and unwilling to fully embrace consciousness.

"I'll get it." Purple said, affectionately smoothing his partner's antennas and placing a kiss to Red's forehead.

"I'll keep the bed warm." Red replied as he drew the covers Purple had displaced to himself, nestling deep into their warmth.

Purple grinned at Red's smeet-like behavior. "You do that. Don't steal my pillow."

Red gave a sleepy laugh, "Wouldn't dream of it."

The knocking became more and more insistent, and Purple turned his attention to the door. He quickly grabbed a bathrobe (Shloonktapooxis had somehow come across them in storage. A whole parcel of them, actually. Purple had no idea _why_ the Resisty was carrying a parcel of bathrobes on board, and unsurprisingly, neither did Shloonktapooxis) and figured that whoever was at the door probably did not expect he or Red to be in their typical attire. Or any attire at all.

Purple opened the door, shocked and disturbed (and a great deal concerned) about the state of the Vortian on the other side of the threshold. Before he could think of what to say, the Captain spoke.

"… I- I'm sorry for interrupting you; I can come back later,"

"Let me just tell Red I'm stepping out. Let's go to your quarters; we'll talk there." The Irken said firmly, indicating there was no choice in the matter. He stepped out of view for a moment and then appeared in front of Lard Nar again. "All right. Let's go."

"This is stupid, really, you don't have to,"

"Honestly, 'Nar," Purple sighed, ending the Vortian's sentence early, "I've got a few things I could stand to talk about, too."

Lard Nar looked confused and somewhat worried. "Why can't you talk to Red about them? He _is_ your mate, after all."

Purple nodded but didn't look at the Captain. "Because I love him too much."

The Vortian was absolutely bewildered, and spoke with confused tension in his voice, "I don't understand what you mean."

The Irken sighed, shaking his head and staring at the floor while Lard Nar unlocked the door to his quarters, "There are some things, 'Nar, no matter how much you love a person, you never really forgive… you just forget. I can't bear to see him look at me the way he does when I remind him. I couldn't ever understand the kind of pain I caused him."

They stepped into the small living area and took seats across from each other, though neither looked the other in the eye.

"You stayed together, though." Lard Nar reminded, "And he doesn't seem the type to tolerate violence."

Purple let out a sad half-sigh, half-laugh. "You want to know something funny? I never raised a hand to him all that time, and did more damage than the Massive's laser cannon ever could've."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration, I'm sure."

"I wish it were. But enough of my problems. We can get to those later. What happened?"

Lard Nar wondered what in the hell had possessed him to do this. He hadn't given it a second thought at first, but now… he had to go through the whole humiliating experience _again_ , and discuss it with someone like Purple. That wasn't to imply Lard Nar had anything against him (as much as he hated to admit); no matter what he claimed, the Irken and his mate had an incredibly successful relationship and it made his problems seem like such idiotic, irresponsible failures. The rational voice in his mind insisted that he was being an idiot, but rationality wasn't exactly on a winning streak tonight.

"Come on, 'Nar. I'm the last person on this ship in any position to judge you."

He couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. At that moment, he felt something tear inside him and knew the pain was too real for all this to just have been a nightmare. He struggled for words and Purple just waited patiently, which for some reason, was unnerving to the Vortian. "I slept with Owaiin." He said, almost out of nowhere, "My ex."

Purple looked slightly confused for a moment.

"One of the refugees we happened to pick up. Lucky me."

The Irken seemed to understand and nodded. He took some time to think in silence and finally spoke, "I can make it look like a painful accident, if you want."

The Captain shot the other a look that said he hadn't expected that kind of response. "…What?"

"Your ex. I can… ' _speak kindly'_ to him on your behalf. By ' _speak kindly_ ', I mean _'with my fists'_."

"Why would you do that?"

"If it upset you this much, it was _not_ your idea of a good time. I know how you feel about Spleenk, and judging from the condition your room is in, and that empty bottle that looks smuggled straight out of planet Cuervo, you weren't exactly yourself earlier."

Lard Nar laughed under his breath humorlessly, "No, I was _too much_ like myself. All this time I've deluded myself into thinking I'm some kind of leader… like I'm actually _competent_ and _capable_ of… shit, _anything_."

"It's just a setback." Purple reassured, "If you give this asshole the power to completely destroy your life and everything you've built without him, then you're not what I thought you were."

"Why, what'd you think I was?"

"Very much like Red and I."

The Vortian gaped for a moment, wondering if maybe the alcohol still hadn't worn off. The light headache in his forehead had reached out to touch the crown of his head and pain pulsed in its grip.

"What's the matter? You look like you're in pain."

"Just a headache."

Purple appeared nostalgic for a moment, "You should take something. Red used to say 'headaches are only the friends of madmen'. Of course, I'd be a stubborn ass and refuse to take anything. He'd break the pills up and hide them in a snack or something. I was such a dumb kid."

Lard Nar dug through his desk drawer and dry-swallowed two Ultra-Extra-Super-Mega-Strength painkillers and Purple cringed slightly at the action, recalling the unpleasant taste of uncoated pills.

"You should really take those with a soda or something."

"I'll live."

Purple shrugged and assumed a very 'back-to-business' look. "There's more to this than sleeping with your ex, isn't there?"

The Captain could tell that it was not a question, but a courtesy. He'd have tried to evade it under normal circumstances, but he just couldn't find the motivation to care. "Yeah."

"Tell me."

Lard Nar sighed, "I wasn't always so tightly wound, you know. I had friends. Saw _more_ than my fair share of parties. I wasn't a compulsive drinker, but I was fairly consistent. Owaiin and I started dating, and he didn't like that. Said he was worried I'd start abusing it… which really is pretty fucking funny, in retrospect. Apparently, I wasn't a very fun drunk once I got to a certain point, which I didn't do regularly, but it upset him, so I quit drinking and everything that went with it. He didn't like my friends, so I left them, too. Moved in together after a while. I spent sixteen years with him." He laughed bitterly, "Then, he left and never told me why. I spent two or three years piss drunk, until I put myself in a coma. In a way, it was a good thing because all the painful detoxing happened while I was out. I figured it was about time to get on with my life after that."

"Call me crazy, but it sounds like you hold yourself responsible for the way he left."

"It _was_ my fault."

"You don't know that."

"Why _else_ would he have gone?"

"Maybe he was just _that_ _kind_ of person."

"What does it matter, anyway?"

"It matters a hell of a lot," Purple explained, "the only thing you think you're capable of is failure and you haven't honestly been happy in a long time. You've conditioned yourself to be afraid. It was different, though, once you got to know Spleenk, wasn't it?"

Lard Nar did not meet the Irken's eyes.

"You kept waiting for the fear, but it never came… and I think that's what scares you."

With a heavy sigh, the Vortian finally weighed in. "You're probably right," he said, then continued with a painful expression, "but it hardly matters now, I suppose."

"Why do you say that?"

"I just slept with my ex. I think that screams 'rebound' pretty sufficiently."

"You weren't yourself. You know that as much as I do."

He shook his head, "Somewhere, in the back of my head, I knew what was happening. I knew it the whole time and I had a thousand opportunities to shove him out the door and I didn't. I think I hate myself."

Purple sighed gently, trying to console the Captain, "This wasn't about self-loathing, okay? I've been there and done that and anybody's god knows that once was more than enough for me to understand it. You didn't hate yourself, 'Nar. You were grieving for something you very much loved, and he must've known you weren't in any kind of condition even remotely close to your right mind. You didn't have time to think properly, with the logical part of your brain. All you wanted was a reason to hope, but you couldn't find one, so you took what was offered to you, because it was _something_. He had no right to take advantage of your emotions like that, and he'd better make sure he keeps to the cargo bay because if he so much as crosses my line of sight, I'll punch a few of his teeth out as a warning."

"…Have you considered Anger Management?"

"I think punching his teeth out would sufficiently manage my anger."

"I'm trying to pretend the idea isn't just a bit satisfying."

"Why pretend? You're allowed to be angry with him. Just don't be angry with _yourself_. It's true that you can only blame your problems on extenuating circumstances for so long, because after a while, you've got to accept them, get over them, and move on. Maybe this… as awful as it was, and as terrible as you feel right now… maybe it was what you needed."

"I don't understand how I take anything even remotely helpful from this disaster." Lard Nar replied, staring at Purple as if he'd lost his mind. Purple noticed he did that quite often.

"You've been holding on to what he did to you for a long time, 'Nar. We both know it. It's not going to be easy, it sure as hell won't be fast, and I don't envy you in the least, but you _will_ get through it and you can _be_ better."

The Irken's words were too overwhelming for the Captain. He couldn't imagine getting through the next thirty seconds, how was he supposed to deal with anything beyond that? Everything inside him felt as if it were twisting; inside his veins, his blood felt black and toxic and his body ached from exhaustion and strain. The ebb and flow of anxiety and panic were too unstable and forceful for him to manage. On a regular basis, he could step away from his position for a few minutes and out of sight to collect himself and calm down. There was no escaping that, now. He wanted to forget everything and pretend it never happened, to lock it away in a box that said "DO NOT OPEN", chained and bolted shut. Purple was telling him to face it, head-on, and it seemed impossible.

It was so much bigger than he was.

It was then he realized that _this_ must've only been a fraction of what the Irken staring back at him had felt every day for hundreds of Irken years. Both he and his partner had been carrying such greater burdens than what presently weighed him down, and they had done it alone. They had no guidance, only each other to go to for consolation and absolution, and they had done the best that they could with what they'd been given (which had not been much), and in spite of it, they had somehow survived. Yes, they had lost their way; he would not pretend that they were blameless, but they had been able to find it again. Lard Nar felt a small spark of hope inside him somewhere. It was not yet enough to light the way, but it was a glimmer he could tend to and a place from which to start.

"…Thank you," he said lamely, at a loss for anything more eloquent, "I think I needed to hear that."

"I can only give you advice based off of what I know. But I don't think you should shut Spleenk out. I think he really cares for you; and I think he'll respect your privacy until you're ready to tell him everything."

Lard Nar just closed his eyes, shook his head, and sighed. "So, what about you?" He asked, "I won't have the _one_ successful relationship on board fall to pieces under my command."

Purple gave a small, grateful smile. "Nothing's wrong… I just think too much sometimes. All the thinking makes me wonder and the questions eat at me because I can't ask them, so they're never really put to rest. I don't doubt that Red loves me, not for a second, but sometimes… when I step away from the here and now and look at the bigger picture," he faltered, "sometimes, I can't understand it."

"Are you talking about what happened, erm, well, what you told me about… when you both, you know, uh…"

Purple shook his head, and the Vortian was visibly grateful that he had not had to complete the sentence aloud. "No. That, we share the blame for… even though I still think it was more my fault than his."

"What is it then?"

Purple sighed. The last person he ever thought he'd be confiding in was Lard Nar, captain of the Resisty (were they _still_ going to call themselves that?). Upon further reflection, Purple mentally corrected himself. 'Nar was the second-to-last person he ever imagined confiding in. At the top of his list was most certainly Shloonktapooxis. Or Spleenk. Spleenk had really surprised him, though, as did most of the resistance.

"I may have been a better hand-to-hand fighter, but Red was always the stronger one. I think we're pretty evenly matched in terms of physical strength, but he… no matter what _They_ did to us, no matter what _They_ made us do, it never broke him afterward. Despite the agony and emotional damage, he always managed to cope with it in the end. When I finally broke, it killed him."

"You couldn't have helped it; it's a miracle you _stayed_ sane as long as you did!"

"I could have, though. _Should_ have. I _should_ have looked at Red and seen how scared he was. It was _always_ in his voice, and I just ignored it. I can hear it in my mind sometimes, or when he's afraid or upset, and it makes me so sick with myself… and I know I should hold him, give him my hand, or _something_ , but I can't do it without hating myself."

"He trusts you. He loves you."

"And that makes it worse!" Purple couldn't help but snap, "He loved me and trusted me and I betrayed him in the worst way I ever could have. I took away his hope. Even now, his eyes are a little less bright and a lot more jaded. He doesn't know _how_ to hope anymore. He's so faithless. I'm not talking in the religious context, but in general… he just can't believe in anything, and I did that to him."

"Well, he may not be the picture of optimism, but I wouldn't doubt for a second that he's got faith in you."

"He _loves_ me. There's a difference."

"I was under the impression that one implied the other."

Purple sighed, thinking of how to articulate his point. "Red loves me, he wants to take care of me, protect me, and all that… but deep down, there's a part of him that's _still_ afraid of me."

"Because you were going to self-destruct?"

"…Yeah. That's one reason. When you watch somebody do the kinds of things that I did… it sort of stays with you."

"That would apply to Red and his actions as well, wouldn't it?" Lard Nar reminded.

Purple conceded with a reluctant sigh, "Yeah. The problem is, that's only part of it."

"Just how complicated is this? Should I be taking notes or is this something for the white-screen?"

Purple knew that the Vortian was trying to offer some humor in an attempt to make things lighter after his stress had finally become outwardly obvious enough for even the Captain to interpret. He let out a long, even exhale and spoke in a calm, honest voice, "The difference was that I didn't try to stop him. The few times I begged him hard enough, I could still get through a part of him, and he'd listen. I loved him, god, I loved him, but never enough to listen."

Lard Nar felt a sympathetic pain in his heart for the Irken he'd once tried to destroy. "You're both different people. You think differently and you've both got separate sets of weaknesses and strengths. You're smart, you know that. Maybe it did affect Red just as badly, but in a different area."

There was a momentary pause during which the violet-eyed Irken evaluated the Vortian across from him. "You want to know why I didn't try to stop him." It wasn't a question; Purple merely articulated everything the Captain's body language said.

"I don't need to know."

"But you want to, don't you?"

Lard Nar squirmed uncomfortably for a moment, trying to phrase correctly what he wanted to say, "Well, er, I mean, I'm _interested_ , of course… but it's not something I'm desperate to find out."

"I deserved it." Purple answered plainly, sitting back in his chair with an expressionless face.

"…Deserved what?"

"I put Red through hell back then. He loved me, and I made him suffer. It was penance."

Lard Nar was so frightened in that moment he did not bother to hide it. It was a kind of shocked horror akin only to what he'd felt during their private hostage-negotiation-turned-alliance, when Purple had explained without words the reason he had such an intimate understanding of the pain behind the scars on his partner's back. He felt completely dumbstruck; though he understood what Purple meant, he could not process anything beyond words.

"… I think, maybe… I think you should, on Malterra, I think… I think you and Red should, I think… think it'd be healthy if you both had a psych evaluation – I'm not trying to offend you; I don't think you're crazy or anything like that… I just…" he paused a moment and took in the violet-eyed Irken, "god, that's not right, Purple. That's not right at all, why would you think something like that?"

He had never seen the Irken look so awkward, so completely out of his element before. Purple had always been, from what he'd seen from his limited perspective, assertive and forceful. Those qualities were completely absent now as the Irken avoided his gaze. His body was too old, too mangled to give him the appearance of a misplaced teenager but too young to compare him to a bewildered elder. Maybe that was what made the feeling even more acute.

"…I told you. I deserved it."

"You can't blame yourself for going crazy!" He shouted incredulously.

"No. I can't."

"I don't understand!" The Vortian replied desperately.

"Everything he let me do without a word of protest, even though it killed him, just because he loved me _that_ much… words couldn't apologize for it. It wasn't fair."

"We all screw up! Everybody's got regrets! That doesn't mean you've got to be a passive-aggressive masochist to be forgiven!"

"How do you forgive someone for fucking you with fresh blood still all over them? How are you supposed to taste them or breathe them after they've made you taste death? How do you look at their clothes and see them without the stains? Look at _yourself_ , and not see or feel where it's rubbed off on your own skin? Let them inside you and _not_ want to die? Touch them with love ever again? How can you be expected to forgive when every day for months on end, you cried while making love?"

Purple's tears were steady but silent and his arms were folded tight against his chest. Lard Nar didn't have an answer. He had nothing to offer the violet-eyed Irken, and it broke his heart.

"Fuck." Purple cursed weakly, staring at the floor. " _Fuck._ " He felt something resting on his shoulder and shifted his focus with a considerable degree of confusion toward it. Lard Nar just stood there despite the incredible awkwardness he was feeling with an open palm on the Irken's shoulder and a look of genuine sadness and compassion for the former dictator.

"You're gonna be okay."

"Wishful thinking. I remember that."

"Whatever happened is in the past now. No matter how much both of us wish we'd done things another way, that doesn't guarantee we'd have done them the _right_ way. We could both have ended up so much worse off than we are, even if that's hard to believe. What did you tell me a few days ago… something about accepting that you're _going_ _to_ hurt the people you love, and you're also going to get hurt. You told me it was worth it, though. If you feel _this_ horrible over something that happened a long time ago, I think it means you love him at least that much. It's not his favorite thing to talk about, I'm sure, but if you tell him how you feel, I think you can start getting over it. All he wants is for you to be happy. If you want him to be happy, it means you've got to be happy."

Purple wiped at his eyes at his eyes and hugged his knees tight to his chest. The Captain nodded supportively and they sat in silence for a while, inwardly reassembling themselves as best they could before they had to admit the existence of world outside the safety of the small living area of Lard Nar's quarters.

* * *

"The two of you are going to make a public statement;" the dark, pacing figure explained, "you're going to tell the public that the attack on Vort was of terrorist origin, but assure them that the growth inoculations are going to be delivered sooner than expected. You'll refer to it as 'bolstering our defenses', protecting our people, and other such nonsense. You'll convey your enthusiasm for the vaccinations and encourage a tighter policy on planetary security. You'll call the attack on Vort an act of cowardice, and refuse to give it the legitimacy of 'terrorism'. Is that understood?"

Two heads nodded in unison.

"Good. You _can not_ afford to lose the public's trust."

The two Irkens turned toward each other and exchanged a knowing glance.

"I think we've got the perfect way to do that, Sir." Cyanine replied with a nod from his co-ruler.

* * *

Red lingered on the edges of consciousness for a while. It was not a restlessness keeping him awake; rather, it was a deep state of relaxation and he felt himself akin to a pilling just as the tide had begun to roll in. Softly, the metaphoric ocean washed over his thoughts in a steady ebb and flow. Not all were pleasant; there were some very much opposite in their nature, and those that were generic and neutral, but he was not bothered. The associations and emotional responses that usually corresponded could not reach him; in the same manner that the frothy swell of sea and salt created a cocoon of warmth and ease around that metaphorical pilling. Everything was so remarkably clear.

Red's thought process, for as structured and logical as it was, had always been very much impassioned. He had always been driven to pursue that which compelled or fascinated him, never one to stop and wait and worry about consequences. He had been such a reckless child. Untamable and uninhibited, often times called " _impossible_ " by his teachers, superiors, and elders; the word was typically accompanied by an angry, frustrated sigh and a desperate shake of the head. Purple had called him _"impossible"_ , too, and still did on various occasions. He thought he had a pretty fair grasp on what the violet-eyed Irken meant to imply. Red saw similar things when he stepped back and really took in everything about Purple. That overwhelmed feeling that he could never express in words, when he felt so lucky, so incredibly _blessed_ that it filled him so completely and he could not take any more. Those moments when his heart swelled and threatened to burst in his chest because someone like Purple should not exist in the kind of world they lived in. It was a place far too dark for someone as bright as his partner, with too much tragedy and pain for someone so hopeful, and Red was in no position to deserve him. Purple never cared about what he deserved, though. He would always insist that Red's logic was inherently flawed, seeing as the crimson-eyed Irken was what made him happiest. If being at his happiest or most satisfied was what he deserved, Red's conclusion was wrong and there was a contradiction in his argument.

He hated when Purple used his own logic against him.

He did not, however, turn a blind eye to the destructive things he'd seen the Irken do. It was true, to an extent, that in the back of his mind he feared that someday the other would regress and no amount of shock would be able to wake him up. As much as he sometimes wanted to, Red knew he could never really fault Purple for his actions for two very legitimate reasons. The first was that even if Purple had not lost control, Red _still_ would not have held out much longer. His sanity had been fraying. It wasn't because his partner was no longer enough; it was simply the case of his own actions being too much to bear. The second reason he could never really blame Purple for the frightening things he'd done was because Red's own actions had been just as terrible.

He never liked to discuss it; the topic in general made him uneasy and horrified with himself at best, though he suspected that Purple always misread his reaction and thought it the other way around.

"Hey," Purple's voice, calling him back to reality, "you awake, Red?"

Red accepted the invitation to wakefulness, despite his tiredness. Something in his partner's voice made it clear that he had something on his mind. "Are you okay?"

"…I don't really know."

"Come here," said the red-eyed Irken, pulling the blankets back and making space beside him on the bed for the other, "talk to me."

Purple looked rigid and uneasy at the suggestion, which immediately made Red worry.

"Please, come back to bed, Sweetheart." He tried with concern in his eyes, "Tell me what's wrong."

Purple struggled, desperate for the words he needed to make Red understand. He failed to find them, in much the same manner that he had when trying to breach the topic with Lard Nar.

"Purple," he said, hoping that the use of his name might help, "please, I need you to say something. What happened? … What did I do?"

"No, no, it's not you. It's not you at all. Well, it sort-of is, but it's not _about_ you, but I guess, in a way… more about how I affected you and how I feel about it, oh Red, I can't do this." He explained rapidly.

Purple held his face in his hands, hunched over as if he were trying to curl into himself while still on his feet. Anyone could see how completely raw and disturbingly fragile the Irken had become. Red had not seen his partner like this in a long time, and he wondered what might have provoked such an intense reaction. On his feet, Red approached the other who was still facing the wall, head in hands, turned away. He gently drew the other into an embrace, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

"Please, talk to me, Pur. I love you."

Purple shuddered and started to cry before convulsing and wrenching out of Red's loose grip, leaving him scared and confused.

"I-I'm sorry… I just, I can't…" he saw the worry and love in Red's eyes and immediately felt sick, collapsing to the floor. The red-eyed Irken approached him again and Purple waved him away, "Please," he said, "don't touch me right now."

Red felt a wave of nausea and his knees threatened to give out. Time stopped for a moment and he forgot how to breathe; the room blurred, then spun around him and he found himself on the verge of blacking out. Once he remembered the basics of respiration and discovered that he had not hallucinated Purple's last request, he felt a pain in his chest so sharp it nearly knocked him over. He couldn't shut the panic off, couldn't make his brain slow down, couldn't even hold himself upright.

Purple, who was looking completely terrified, had immediately gotten to his feet just in time to ease Red to the floor as he fell. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe, but he the longer he failed to control it, the more terrified he became and the worse it got. Purple did not waste time in pulling his partner into a sitting position with his chest flush against Red's back, holding him close with one arm and using the other to keep his head in place to assure that his airways were open.

"Come on, just breathe with me, okay?" Purple instructed gently, breathing deeply against Red, "You feel that? I need you to focus, and breathe with me. In and out, real easy, just like that. Nice deep breaths, Sweetheart. Just listen to me and stay calm, all right? I love you, Red. Your Pak should kick in any second now."

A few moments later, Purple sighed heavily in relief, but did not let go of Red once the Pak indicated that he was functioning at 100% again. It felt disturbingly akin to the disaster that had ensued years ago, when his partner had picked a fight with their bathroom mirror, and nearly lost.

It had been early evening, in between shift changes and the ship's weekly maintenance routine. They had retired from the bridge to the comfort of their personal space, in which relief could only be found once all their anger and loathing had been purged. They had only one outlet for the overwhelming surge of hostile emotions that had built up during the course of the day, so without a desire to harm the other, they instead channeled their raw fury toward inanimate objects. They had not yet reached the point where they would become so desperate that their rage would turn to lust, and they would each become the other's object on which to focus their aggression. Neither Red nor Purple maintained an aversion to the occasional rough play. The problem was not in the act itself, but rather, in the motivation behind it. There had been no love in using each other's bodies to satisfy selfish, hateful impulses. In stripping the act of meaning, they had rendered each other an empty vessel and nothing more. Using their intimacy as a means to an end would eventually isolate them entirely. They had sworn never to walk that road. They had allowed those impulses to govern their personal relationship once, and that single momentary lapse of reason had been a sufficient lesson to them both, and they had remembered it until they could no longer remember themselves.

It had been a particularly bad day for Red. He hadn't talked about why, but Purple couldn't fault him for not having yet found time to discuss it. Red had stormed through the room with a violent fury, and Purple thought him much like fire. He had torn an expensive, decorative chair to splinters before Purple had even put a dent in the metal wall. He'd stormed into the bathroom while Purple clawed deep scratches into his desk. The latter had started to catch his breath when he heard a blunt noise followed by a shower of shattering sounds.

Purple had seen Red suffer. He'd watched the Bastards in Black beat Red within an inch of his life for so many years _,_ but in the back of his mind he knew that _They_ would give him an ultimatum before issuing a kill order. If Red were to die at _Their_ hands, it would have been because Purple had not complied with their orders within the timeframe he'd been allowed and the same would hold true if the roles were reversed. Terrible as _They_ were, at least they were consistent.

If the mirror-induced injury had happened on _Their_ account, Purple would still have been sick with worry and panic and the usual terror that generally peaked when his partner's life was in jeopardy, but he would have been reassured in some perverse way because he would have known that Red was going to recover. _They_ knew just how much they could bruise him or break him or bleed out of him before the situation would become fatal. _They_ couldn't afford to let either one of them accidentally expire.

When Purple had followed the sudden shatter into the bathroom, everything seemed suspended in time and space. Red stared at him in confusion and terror, as if he could not process the incredible amount of blood covering his hand, his arm, and everything in a two-foot (and growing) radius. Purple watched the color drain from the other's face as Red's eyes fluttered as he swayed off balance for a moment. Purple steadied his partner before he could collapse and helped him to the floor, fashioning a makeshift tourniquet with strips of fabric he'd torn off his robe and several towels, pressing the emergency button near the sink and praying that the medics would arrive two minutes ago.

" _Red, please, Baby… you need to wake up, you've got to stay conscious until the medic gets here, ok? Come on, Baby, you're stronger than this,"_ applying as much pressure to the wound as he could, Purple desperately begged his partner through tears, _"You're gonna be ok, you just need to wake up for a little while… please…"_

"… _Ithink…"_ Red eyes fluttered half-open and his words slurred together, separated by deep, rapid breaths. _"pleasedon'tbe… mad… at… me, I'm s-s… sorry, I-I,"_

" _Shh, Sweetheart, it's ok, everything's ok."_ Purple whispered gently, smiling while tears poured down his face. _"I love you, there's nothing to be 'sorry' for."_

" _I… bu-b-but I…"_ He gasped for air and Purple increased the pressure on his wound. _"Oh, Pur,"_ he started to cry, _"I think… Ithink I… I think I broke… themirror…."_

" _I never liked that thing anyway, it's no reason to cry. Try to relax, Baby, just breathe deep and stay with me."_

" _The bathroom… it's all… I made a mess. …I'll-I'll clean it, I d-didn't-t mean t-t-to…"_

" _That's why we have janitorial drones, the mess is taken care of."_

" _I'm so tired…"_

" _Red, you've got to stay awake – just a little bit longer, I promise, but I need you to keep conscious, ok? Can you do that for me? Red!?"_

The other winced, _"Is it time for bed yet?"_

" _No, not yet, but soon, ok? We'll sleep as long as you want to. How does that sound?"_

" _I-it sounds g… it sounds good…"_ Red cringed and shuddered, _"Pur, w-would yo…you m-m-ind… I'm, please… h-hold m-me… I'mcold…."_

" _I can't let go, I've got to keep pressure on your arm, Red… I know it's cold,"_ He was choking on full-out sobs now, _"you've gotta be brave, though, and I promise I'll never let you get cold again."_

"… _Y-you're m-mad. You'remadabout… the mirror, I-I kn-knew it I said Isaidiwas… sorry I… didn'tmeanto… didn't – I didn't meantomakeamess."_

" _I told you before, I don't care about any of that. I'm not mad."_

" _L-liar."_

" _I'm not lying, Red, I_ promise _I'm not lying."_

" _Then w-why won't y-you holdme?"_

Purple felt as if something inside him were ripping apart. _"You'll be warm soon, Baby. Before you know it. I love you so much. You know that, don't you?"_

" _I know. I love you too, I'mjust notready… I don't want to… push you into anythingeveragainlikeI… like I did the last time. …Ijustcan't, I don'twant… I can't lose you."_

Purple screamed for the medic and completely lost any hope of maintaining something resembling composure. Red's Pak was no longer capable of sustaining his cognitive functions, which meant that his brain wasn't getting the air it needed, which meant his green cells weren't being replenished fast enough – in short, Red was dying. If he didn't get help Red was going to bleed out, in the middle of their bathroom.

" _Red, Red!"_

His eyes opened weakly. He struggled to reply but Purple cut him off.

" _Hold this here."_ He said, pressing Red's hand firmly against the makeshift bandage, where his own had previously been. _"I need to get the Biostabilizer Kit."_

" _W-wait!"_ He cried, _"D-don't leave m… don't…"_

" _I'm not leaving, Sweetheart."_ He replied, kissing the wounded Irken's forehead, _"I'm gonna make you better, Baby. Just hold that and press down hard."_

Red nodded, tears still streaming from his eyes. Purple got to his feet and quickly tore through the bathroom cabinet until he found what he'd been looking for and was beside Red in an instant, fumbling through the kit. After a shot of pure adrenaline and a standard five-milligram push of epinephrine, he felt for Red's pulse. Once he had made certain that it was still there, he unwrapped the bloody excuse for bandages and injected a local anesthetic before splashing some sanitizer on the wound. He carefully picked two particularly nasty shards of glass out of his partner's limb, but he could not take the risk of removing the third one. It had lodged itself in such a way that slowed the bleeding just enough to have prevented the major artery from being severed entirely, and in all reality, probably saved his life. Hoping there would be no lasting damage, Purple set to work with the laser cauterizer.

He shook his head in the present, holding Red as close as possible and listened to his breathing even out. "Don't ever do that to me again." He whispered, very much relieved.

"I wasn't _trying_ to pass out, you know." Red replied without inflection.

"You didn't pass out, you had a panic attack, Sweetheart. God, you could have shut yourself down." He said, holding the Irken tighter. "I love you. I love you so much. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been so over-dramatic. I was scared it would push you away and after how upset you were earlier, I didn't want to spoil it… looks like I blew that one."

"I don't blame you… if you don't want me to touch you." Red replied stoically, with a look over his shoulder, meeting his partner's eyes, "I'll understand."

"Red I… I don't think we're on the same page, here."

Red sighed. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out I must've done something earlier that made you remember something I must've blocked out from our god-awful first time. I can guess that it was scarring and something I said or did made you remember."

"Oh Red," he replied painfully as he nuzzled into the crook of the aforementioned Irken's neck, "I was upset over what _I've_ done to you. The things I put you through when I lost control… I saw what those things did to you and I can't ever take them back. I hurt you."

"Yeah. I'll give you that. It did hurt… but I can't blame you."

"Like hell you can't."

"Come here, Pur. Look at me." Red replied over his shoulder, indicating for Purple to come and sit across from him. Reluctantly, the other Irken sat shamefully and waited in silence. "Please look at me." He asked, with a hand under his partner's chin encouraging him to focus upward. They sat in silence until it became clear that Red was not going to let him off the hook so Purple gave in and met the other's eyes.

"I've hurt you, too. What I've done has been just as bad. I was trying to hold on and you pulled me under, but you were trying to get out and I drove you seconds to suicide. You only brought me to the brink. I was in pain, yes, but it wasn't until _They_ caught me allowing a prisoner to escape that I really gave up. I don't think I've forgiven myself for what _They_ did to you yet."

Confusion manifested on Purple's face, "What are you talking about, Red?"

Red gave a smile that wasn't really a smile and shook his head with a sigh, "It's amazing how someone sees their actions in such a different way from the people around them." He looked away, "Two days of electric shock. Somewhere in the middle if it, I just snapped."

He'd been forced to watch from outside a glass barrier as they sent a constant stream of electricity through his partner's Pak. The pain on his face, worsened by restraints, made Red's mind scream at him. His conscious self could handle any more; the agony, the torture, the guilt.

Most of all, the guilt.

The guilt of his actions, the orders that he had carried out, the guilt of his partner who suffered for his insolence and the guilt he'd accumulated in his personal life… all of it was finally too much.

He laughed then, but it wasn't out of humor or amusement or happiness. He laughed as he sobbed on the verge of hysteria and felt rationality splinter and crack, shattering into shiny fragments, like the mirror he'd once broken. His body shook violently as he pressed a hand to the glass in a sad attempt to touch his partner and share his agony.

" _Never again."_ He whispered. In that moment he felt an intense hatred, not only for the black cloaks in his nightmares but also for every single sentient creature at even the farthest edges of the universe. This new, vast sort of hatred was not limited only to creatures capable of rational thought. He clenched his hands in tight, shaking fists and felt a swell of anger at the ignorance of simple-minded beasts. They would never know this kind of agony, in much the same way as every thing that lived and breathed.

It wasn't fair, he thought, as he grit his teeth and struggled to keep himself composed. It wasn't fair that the two of them had to pay like this, not when they had been trying to do the right thing. Purple no longer had the will to fight; the constant war of attrition had worn away his conscience. He would only snap into an echo of his former self whenever Red was at risk. Those times were fewer and farther between now that he'd begun willfully carrying out Their demands. Something had been lost between them when Purple had reached the end of his proverbial rope. A chasm he could never hope to mend, an empty void of endless _nothing_ had severed the connection they once shared, and from opposite ends they could speak and hear but they could not _feel_. Red had danced dangerously close to the edge of that void dividing them several times. He'd even been so careless as to nearly have lost his footing in desperate attempts to breach the gap, to guide Purple back to safety, but every attempt was a futile effort. He stood there, wondering if maybe Purple's side had been the better, more logical choice. With another glance at the agony twisting his partner's features, Red had finally come to a decision: ignorance was bliss.

"That wasn't your fault." Purple's voice explained softly from the present, accompanied by a sympathetic smile. "Don't ever think that those things were your fault, Red. Don't _ever_ think I resented you."

He didn't know why, but he found himself smiling and smoothed back his partner's antennas in response. Purple leaned into the gesture with closed eyes and a contented expression as he let out a soft, grateful sigh. "You know something, Baby? You were worth every second."

Under normal circumstances, Purple would have waved the compliment away or provided a counter-argument, but there was something so different in Red's eyes and he could not explain why it had caused the nervous smile on his lips, or the blush on his face.

"So were you, Red." He replied, "So were you."

As they sat wordlessly exchanging smiles, they both realized that they genuinely believed it.

* * *

He blinked his heavy eyelids and waited as the blurry world around him came into focus. He felt a little light-headed. Maybe a bit thirsty and definitely hungry, but mostly, the short, stout little Invader was confused. For a moment, he couldn't remember what had led him here – wrists cuffed around a metal pole in what looked like… an Irken base? He looked around quickly and everything came flooding back to Invader Skoodge; his mission, that large-headed child, the news of Zim's death, his report to the Tallest, the empty fuel reserve and communication trouble that followed, checking Zim's base for supplies, "…Zim!" He shouted out loud, as if struck with a revelation, to no on in particular.

"Hey, Skoodge." Zim said, stepping into view. He motioned at the familiar alien standing beside him, "You're already acquainted with the Dib-pig, yes?"

Dib rolled his eyes and Skoodge nodded dumbly.

"…B-but you're _dead_! You self-destructed!"

"And who told you that?"

" _He_ did!" Skoodge replied, emphatically gesturing at the human boy.

"It's nothing personal, Skoodge. I didn't know if you would listen, or believe me… and I _had_ to make sure they thought I was dead." Zim explained.

"What's going on?!" Slowly, the information he'd learned began to fall into place and dread consumed his being as he silently wished, though he knew it was futile, that the picture he saw was wrong. "…Don't tell me you're a traitor!"

Zim sighed, "Zim is no traitor, Skoodge. I was loyal to something that never existed."

Skoodge looked at the other Invader as if he'd grown a second head.

"I know you're not going to like this, but you have to believe that I'm telling the truth. I can _prove it_ , but you have to let me explain first."

"You've finally lost it, Zim! You've turned on the Empire! You're a rebel, aren't you?! …Oh my god, you think they were _innocent_ , don't you?!"

"They _are_ innocent, you Slime-Toed-Snork-Beast!" Zim shouted angrily, "You'd understand if you just _listened to Zim_ for five minutes!"

"I don't _need_ to listen to you! You've been chasing after those two since we were smeets! They made you into a joke and jerked you around like one of those puppet-things… you know, with the strings… they kinda dangle,"

"Marionettes." Dib said.

"Marionettes, thanks. They treated you like dirt. No, that's unfair… they treated dirt _better_! They hated you, Zim. They hated _you_ morethan they hated _me_ and they hated me so much I'd been seriously considering living in your basement! If you ask me, they didn't die soon enough!"

"Take it back." Zim demanded, his words calm and cold and absolutely terrifying.

" _No_." Skoodge replied defiantly.

"They were your _friends_ once."

Skoodge gave a dry laugh. "They were _never_ my friends. They were _never_ your friends. The only people those two ever gave a shit about was each other."

"They _love_ each other, you fool!" The former Invader shouted furiously, "Do you think I _wanted_ to believe they were innocent? That I get some strange type of joy out of galactic humiliation? That I want _anything_ to do with saving this stupid universe from vague and imminent destruction, the nature of which I know absolutely _nothing_ about?!" Zim lowered his voice and paused for a moment, allowing time for his words to sink in.

"…The universe is ending?"

"Oh, I, um… I guess I forgot to mention that part." Zim replied with a nervous smile, scratching behind his head.

Skoodge looked to Dib for confirmation, "The universe is ending?"

Dib just nodded, "I didn't believe it at first, either, but I promise there's one piece of irrefutable evidence."

Both Zim and Skoodge looked at the boy with puzzled expressions.

"Which is…?" Skoodge asked.

"Zim hasn't tried to kill me yet." Dib explained, "If that's not proof enough, I don't know what else you need."

"He's right." Zim agreed.

"This must be what going mad feels like…."

"I thought the same thing, Skoodge. But think about it for a second. Red and Purple would have nothing to gain by going rogue, and everything to lose. Would they, from your perspective, pursue _anything_ that wouldn't benefit themselves?" Zim asked.

If Zim was able to string together a logical argument, it _had_ to be the sign of something very, very impossible. Still, he refused to believe it. Skooge thought to himself that the situation Zim had been describing would only occur when Earth-pigs would have wings and sport sombreros.

It was at that very moment that GIR dashed into the room, holding something very round and pink over his head, giddy with laughter and begging for his master's attention.

"Lookit, Master! Ain't he preeeeeety? His name is Janet and we's just about ta get us some cheese, there's squirrels in mah head – wheeee!"

"That's nice, GIR. Very nice. Why don't you and Janet go upstairs and… make toast, or something."

GIR's eyes widened, "I'mma make toast!" He shouted, "Does Master want some? How about Big Head Boy? Ooh, lookie, Master's got another friend! This is Janet," the excited robot explained, holding the pig out to Skoodge, "we rode a unicycle and ate the moon with a shoehorn!"

"…You glued wings to the pig." The handcuffed alien responded, somewhat dumbstruck, "and gave him a sombrero."

GIR nodded vigorously in affirmation, giggling to himself.

"Isn't it time for the Scary Monkey Show?" Zim asked the SIR unit, who gasped abruptly.

"Monkeyyyyyyy!" He shouted, bursting out of the room, his piggy tucked under one metal arm.

"That pig had wings… _and_ a sombrero." Skoodge restated in disbelief.

"And I'm not even surprised." Zim responded, folding his arms. "Is that bad?"

Dib shrugged. "At least he makes good waffles."

"Until he starts putting peanuts and soap in the batter." The unrestrained Irken cringed.

"…Yeeeah. Then there's that."

"This is absurd!" Skooge laughed, "This literally _cannot_ be happening…"

"It can, and it is. You haven't figured it out yet, have you?" Zim asked.

"Figured _what_ out?"

"The Tallest," Zim cringed at the thought of Irk's new leaders, "the _new_ Tallest. They sent _you_ on purpose." He made eye contact with the stout Invader, "They _meant_ to strand you here."

"That's slander!"

Zim desperately struggled against his every instinct, as they all screamed for him to throttle Skooge. "They're the ones who sent the specs for your ship. The fuel reserve said it was full, but it's faulty, isn't it? I'm guessing you can't even break atmo with what you've got left. I'm also guessing your communication equipment shut itself down and you can't get it back online. I'm thinking that they sent you here to _die_ , Skooge."

"…But… I did my job. I _always_ did my job, and I did it better than any other Invader, why would they… it's not fair…."

"With the Resistance out there, growing stronger, spreading their message… there's a risk that Irkens farther away from your home planet will be influenced. Especially the Invaders." Dib reasoned, "Say an Invader is stationed on a planet, and somehow, he becomes sympathetic to the Resistance and even starts to fight on their side. He can still get rations and weapons and equipment all free, courtesy of Irk, to support the rebellion. Before long, the whole planet is ready to take up arms against your world. It's politically delicate."

Zim was incredibly grateful that the boy was already proving himself useful. Dib had always been good at as the humans said, reading between the lines and making inferences. On second thought, he realized that the human in question was the Dib, and immediately took back any credit he may have mentally designated. "You've always been too smart, Skoodge. Too smart and too good at what you do, and it makes you a threat. You know how Irk handles threats." Zim reminded.

Skoodge could not help but look dejected and miserable. He stared straight ahead of him, focusing on nothing at all, except the words that rang all to true in his head. He didn't want to believe it. It burned every time he thought of Red and Purple, and the degradation they'd forced on him. How could Zim ask that he give up what little pride and dignity he had left and fight in the name of the two who had stripped him of it? How could _Zim_ , of all people, bring _himself_ to do such a thing?

"You don't have to fight for them." Zim said, as if reading his mind, "But I guarantee, you'll want to after you read this."

Skoodge accepted the message-screen that the other Irken passed to him with a curious expression.

"We'll give you some time alone to read it. It's…" Zim looked away, uncomfortable, "it's not easy."

With that, both Zim and Dib quietly left Skoodge alone. Zim knew how proud Skoodge could be, and gave him privacy as a gesture of respect.

Ugh, these emotions were _really_ getting to him.

* * *

There was a certain awkwardness that fell on them with the grace of an anvil the moment that Red and Purple stepped back onto the bridge. People either looked at them and immediately diverted their eyes, or made it painfully obvious that they were trying to avoid making eye contact with the two Irkens.

Red just shrugged after a prolonged moment and shouted, "Sex!" at the top of his lungs.

"In front of all these people!" Spleenk's voice called back across the flight deck.

Red laughed, "Why not? It's not like it could get any more awkward in this room!"

Purple just leaned against the wall and gave a resigned sigh, "Don't enable him!"

"Wouldn't dare!" Spleenk replied, heading in their direction, "That's _your_ job!"

Purple blushed furiously and Red doubled over in laughter.

"He's right, Honey." Red reminded in between fits of hysteria.

"Yeah, well, enjoy enabling _yourself_ from now on." Purple retorted.

"Oh, _that_ was harsh. He wins." Spleenk said.

Red pouted and plopped down in the seat he'd come to claim at the control panel. "Well, _somebody_ had to fix the awkward."

"He's got a point." Spleenk reminded.

Purple just sighed hopelessly. "What's our ETA?"

Spleenk checked his wrists, searching for which one of the four his watch was currently on. "About an hour or so." He answered.

"Good. It's about time for a change of scenery."

He exhaled heavily, "I think we all could do with that."

"Has… Have either of you seen the Captain around?"

Red caught himself before speaking and turned to Purple, who appeared to have even less of an idea regarding how to respond. Still, Red _technically_ hadn't spoken with the Vortian in question, and reasoned inwardly that it was enough of a technicality to get by with.

"He came by our quarters a few hours ago," Purple began hesitantly, "he's… he's gonna need some patience, Spleenk."

The four-armed alien nodded, fidgeting with his hands nervously. "But, he's… he's, you know… he's okay, right? I mean, I know he's not _okay_ , I don't expect him to be – I'd worry if he _was_ okay after what's happened but he _is_ okay, isn't he?"

Spleenk was back to the nervous rambling they recognized, his body clearly displaying blatant indications of high levels of anxiety.

"Spleenk." Red's voice was calm and firm, "Take a breath. I know you're worried for him. I haven't spoken with him, but I can guarantee he's doing enough worrying for both of you. He'll be fine; he's got you to look after him."

The alien sighed deeply and took a moment to compose himself. "You're right. Sometimes, I guess I just forget to breathe."

"We all do," said Purple said with a knowing, warm smile at his partner, "and it's okay."

"Captain on deck!" Called a random voice from across the bridge.

"As you were." Lard Nar replied.

Both Red and Purple maintained a mock-salute until a certain displeased Vortian came toward them, crossing his arms over his chest with a sigh that feigned annoyance.

"Awaiting orders, Sir!"

"Tolerant of your presence or not, I am _still_ the Captain of this ship." The Vortian reminded. "I could stick you _both_ on latrine duty, you know."

The two Irkens dropped the salute and assumed a relaxed, comfortable posture. "Yeah," Red replied, "but you won't."

Lard Nar raised an eyebrow, "Care to test that theory?"

"Oh, come on, 'Nar. I like annoying you and, yes, I admit that I find a certain joy in the look on your face when I disturb you in a perverse way, but you know it's all in good fun."

"It is?"

"If I didn't like you, you'd know it." Red replied.

"…Told you." Spleenk grinned, rocking back on his heels, "water-pistol."

Lard Nar sighed. "You were right."

"I'm _always_ right." Spleenk replied in a manner that made the Vortian crack a smile.

"Knew you had a sense of humor in you somewhere."

They shared a short moment before Red's voice demanded their attention, "Hey… Captain…" he said, scrutinizing what the Vortian assumed were wavelengths (though for all he knew, it could have been a screen saver) "we're picking up a transmission."

"Do you know who's sending it?"

Red bit his tongue and kept the sarcasm out of his voice, "Not yet. But from the look of it, it seems to be a pretty wide range. It's playing on every frequency, so my bet is on a newscast. What do you think, Captain," he asked, "feel like watching the news?"

"Given the last six hours, not really, but it'd be irresponsible not to."

Red nodded and began adjusting knobs and dials until the static on the screen at the communications panel came in with perfect focus. "I guess I should have expected that." The red-eyed Irken said, clearly unenthused at the contents of the broadcast.

"They did mention that the Tallest were gonna make a statement," Spleenk mentioned idly, "I completely forgot about it, though."

"You can always count on Irk to ruin a good time." Purple said to no one.

"It _still_ sounds weird when you say things like that." Lard Nar replied.

"Quiet, everybody. Whatever they're gonna say might actually be important."

* * *

"I know you've all been anxious over the tragedy that occurred on Vort." The blue-eyed Tallest addressed the crowd, "Our findings lead us to believe that it was purposefully planned terrorist attack."

"We, however, will acknowledge this act for what it really is: an act of cowardice. Our enemies are so threatened by our presence in the Universe that they cannot even face us in true combat. Though the undignified slaughter of our people on Vort is a great loss, we must not see it as an indication of weakness. Rather, we must understand the truth of it."

"The truth of it, my fellow Irkens, is that we are a power so great and so feared across the universe – so _unstoppable_ – that these aggressors are too scared to even claim responsibility, for they know what the consequence would be. No more harm shall come to Irk, not so long as _we_ remain in power!"

The crowd roared in approval, cheering and clapping and shouting, wildly invigorated with renewed patriotism and passion.

"We are pleased to inform you all that the growth inoculations promised to you will be ready sooner than we expected. The procedure will begin as soon as possible, as we have made it one of our top priorities. These injections will not only strengthen our military defenses, but they will ensure the protection of individual Irkens everywhere."

The damage and catastrophic disaster of the recent events concerning Vort were suddenly the last things on any Irken's mind as the crowd went ecstatic and roared with enthusiasm.

"Also, my friends," Phthalo began, "it is the great privilege of my fellow Tallest to deliver a piece of truly _wonderful_ news."

Everyone waited in expectant silence, unable to fathom what kind of news could possibly be any more wonderful than what they had just heard.

The Tallest shared a knowing grin and faced the eager crowd. "Invader Zim is _dead_!"

And they all went wild.

* * *

The red-eyed Irken sat in his chair at the communications panel and smiled at the monitor. He shook his head, still smiling, "He did it." Red stated, "He actually did it."

Purple returned the expression, covering one of Red's hands with his own but said nothing.

"They just confirmed his death," Lard Nar replied with genuine concern, "…why are you smiling?

"Because we're going to _win_."

"But… Zim's dead." The Captain reminded.

"No he's not." Purple stated, "He's taken himself off the system. Removed the Pak receptors."

"Oh. Well, that makes sense."

"We're almost at Malterra. We'll be able to send a transmission from there." Red explained, "It's at the heart of the Great Big Nothing Sector. Named for the abundance of dead or abandoned planets, moons, and black rocks."

"There _is_ that operating Compost Planet on the outskirts." Purple reminded.

Red rolled his eyes, "Do you know anyone in their right mind who'd be on a Compost Planet?"

* * *

"… _it is the great privilege of my fellow Tallest to deliver a piece of truly_ wonderful _news. Invader Zim is_ dead _!"_

She watched the crowd explode with joy and felt anger slowly building within her, boiling under her skin as she dug her nails into the arms of her seat. She grit her teeth and clenched her jaw tightly before she inhaled a deep breath and shrieked at the top of her tiny Irken lungs, " **NO!** "

* * *

Both Tallest looked at each other blankly.

"Please, my Tallest, I'm _begging_ you – please, just let me _make sure_ he's dead, Zim is so hard to kill, you never know, he might still be,"

"We sent someone to check already." Cyanine replied, silencing the Irken on the other line, "He's definitely dead. Zim is dead. D-E-A-D. As in, kaput. Passed on! He is no more! He has ceased to be! Zim's expired and gone to meet his maker! He's a stiff! Bereft of life, he rests in peace! His metabolic processes are now history! He's kicked bucket, shuffled off his mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible! Zim is an _ex-Irken_!"

"But- but Sirs… my Tallest, I… it's not _fair_! _I_ was supposed to kill him! _Me!_ Not some stupid Earth-child with an enormous head!"

"… You know what killed Zim?" Phthalo asked curiously.

"Well, I can only guess it was the human boy, Dib. Or that insufferable demon of a sister who helped _ruined my plans_!"

"Listen, um…" He scratched his head, "what did you say your name was, again?"

"Tak."

"Right. Listen, Tak, we appreciate the offer, we really do, but it's been taken care of. I mean, you're in the Great Big Nothing Sector, right?"

"On a _Compost Planet_." Cyanine added, hoping to contribute to the humiliation.

Tak grit her teeth and cringed, " _Yes_. I'd be an Invader if that moronic alien hadn't screwed me over!"

"Yeah, go cry about it." Cyanine replied bluntly, "Point is, you've _already_ got a job to do. You'll never be an Invader if you keep flagrantly disobeying orders! Do you understand?"

"…Yes, Sirs." She replied dejectedly.

"Good."

The Tallest exhaled simultaneously when the screen went black.

"Ugh. She has an attitude problem." Cyanine said.

"You don't think she'd actually disobey us, do you?

The green-eyed Irken raised a brow, "Of course she will."

"What makes you say that?" Phthalo asked, taking a seat and looking attentively at his co-Tallest.

"She disobeyed you-know-who _and_ the Control Brains by going AWOL while assigned to Planet Dirt. She stole and programmed a Voot to get to Earth, and rumor has it that she made her own custom modifications to the model. She was lucky her escape pod carried her as far as it did."

"How _did_ she manage that distance in a pod?"

"Turned it into a cryo chamber."

Phthalo's blue eyes widened, "You're kidding!"

Cyanine shook his head, "We had a transfer from the Compost Planet she's been working on a while back; we couldn't go after her since the planet is in neutral territory and nobody _wants_ to claim a garbage dump… it's better that way; means we don't have to take care of it, and if something goes wrong, oh well. It's not ours. But anyway, the transfer said all she had to do was pick a destination and set the cryo freezer. The pod was programmed to turn life support off and divert the extra power to the engines. Brilliant idea. Fucking insane, but brilliant."

Phthalo looked pensive. A conflicted expression settled over his features and he appeared uneasy.

"What?"

"You know I hate this. I hate it as much as you do, but… but I don't want to see you get hurt because of me."

"Pfft, you hardly know me."

Phthalo let out a frustrated sigh. "You keep saying that. Every time I try to make conversation or just fucking _talk_ to you, all I get is a condescending brush-off. What's your goddamn problem?!"

"My problem, Phthalo, is that right now, you mean _nothing_ to me. We're not family, we're not friends, we're not even roommates. We're co-workers. That's _it_."

Phthalo tried not to look as crushed and hopeless as he felt. He had no one else in the god-forsaken nightmare he called his life, no one who could possibly come close to maybe understanding a fraction of the things that he felt tearing him to shreds from the inside out every waking moment of every single day. He made the choices that kept Cyanine from harm, even when they meant that harm would come to others, but he consoled himself with the anonymity of it. Sending people to die was easy when they were nameless faces or faceless names on a list.

He hated that he felt that way. He'd asked to have the mirrors removed from his living space and it had been a good decision. He hadn't seen his reflection since they had been inaugurated and he was no longer sure what he looked like, but he knew for certain that the next time he saw a mirror, the man staring back would not be familiar. He took comfort in the indulgences that the position allowed, tried to bury the fear and the guilt and the same with possessions and distractions. He despised himself for it, but he could not think of another way to shut his conscience off.

He had hoped that his co-Tallest would have _something_ to say, eventually. Even if he was quiet by nature, Phthalo assumed that the stress they both faced, the shyness would eventually dissipate. Phthalo had never been very good with people, though.

"I'm sorry, that was… _harsher_ than I intended it to be." Cyanine said, without meeting his co-Tallest's eyes, "It's just that… if it becomes anything more complicated, everything only gets worse. It makes the decisions harder and then there's so much more to lose. For both of us. It's just better if we… if we leave things the way they are. We're both fine."

Phthalo laughed sarcastically, "What planet are _you_ on?" He muttered.

"Look, none of this shit is _my fault_ , okay? I don't call the shots, if you haven't noticed, and I'm trying to keep our best interests in mind."

The blue-eyed Irken sighed, "Maybe you're right. It just feels like it's too much sometimes. I don't know what to do."

Cyanine pulled out the chair across from his co-leader. "Neither do I."

Phthalo managed half a smile, knowing it was the best he'd get from the green-eyed Tallest. "So, how much of a threat do you think Tak poses?"

"Not much right now." He said, "But she's _incredibly_ talented and she's stubborn, and she's proved that she's more motivated by her own interests than those of the planet."

"…It looks like she's just set a course for Earth." Phthalo announced, showing the screen on which they had been tracking her position since the call had come in.

"You could have been so useful…" He muttered to the blinking green dot. "I don't think we have a choice, Phthalo."

"We've still got a direct line to her ship, right?"

"Yep."

"All right. Let's call down to Defense and have them send a pulse and reprogram the cryo specs."

"Okay."

"Hey, Phthalo?"

"Yes?"

"I hate this part."

* * *

**Allusions & References**

**Janet the Pig** is a reference to Janet the Weevil from _Torchwood_

**"This much be what going mad feels like"** ... is a direct quote from the _Firefly_ episode _"Jaynestown"_

The **Waffles with** **peanuts and soap** are a throwback to the _Zim_ episode _"Zim Eats Waffles"_

The " **Zim is dead"** bit is almost word-for-word from Monty Python's _"Dead Parrot"_ sketch.

I think there might be a few I've forgotten, but I'm tired and I want to post this.

**Notes**

The bit where Red shouts "sex!" for no reason was inspired by one of my friends who uses this strategy.

Yay, Tak _finally_ enters the plot!

I'm sorry if this one doesn't read as smoothly. I kinda got stuck at certain points. As always, thanks for reading! Please, review if you've got time!


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** There's alot of character resolution here, but I felt like there were some big issues that could result in plot holes later on if I didn't take a moment to account for them here. Moral and ethical dilemmas, ahoy! Hope it doesn't suck!

And a super-sized "thank you" to everybody who reads this, especially you guys who take the time to review. Even a simple smiley face brings oodles of happiness. Oodles... that's a word I haven't used in a long time and will hopefully never use again.

* * *

**\- 9 -**

Red idly poked numbers on the keypad at his left. He did this for no other reason than to provoke the beeping noises unique to each key.

"What are you doing?" Purple asked, sitting a few feet away, exhausted and bored.

"Slowly trying to drive us insane?" Lard Nar responded in much the same drained and tired manner.

Red just smirked to himself and kept pressing keys until he grinned in satisfaction. "I got it."

Purple offered a confused expression, "What?"

The red-eyed Irken poked a specific series of buttons and grinned.

Purple rolled his eyes, "You never cease to amaze me."

Lard Nar and Spleenk looked to each other and shrugged, clueless.

The violet-clad Irken sighed, "He's using the keypad tones to play a song he likes. It's Earth-music. A genera the Humans call 'metal', for some reason."

"I'll give the Humans this: they've got some incredible music." Red began, "Zim sent us a catalog of their musical history, and it surprised both of us. The great stuff has disappeared over the last few years, but even still, there's a gem or two that stand out. And, any species that can work a _cannon_ into a piece of classical music gets a small reprieve, in my opinion."

"Neat." Spleenk replied.

"I _did_ download that catalog before we left. I'm sure I could play it through the computer." Red mentioned, glancing at Purple from the corner of his eye.

The other Irken just shook his head. "Some of us would keep that extra digital storage in our Paks for important things, like personality profile backups or use it as a secondary processing default, but _you_ turn yours into a music bank."

"So?"

"I would've gotten you one of those neural relay players if you wanted it that badly."

Red cringed at the mention of a neural relay player. It was a very simple piece of technology; a tiny device inserted under the skin (usually at the nape of the neck), which allowed one to send and receive ThoughtMail. The network had then expanded to include a unique system of storing and replaying music tracks in one's head on demand for a nominal fee. "You know I don't like the idea of someone hearing what I'm thinking."

"Don't worry," Lard Nar replied, " _nobody_ likes that idea."

"I'm serious, it's creepy!" Red insisted, "Plus, you know _They_ would've found a way to access that signal. That would have opened up so many new ways for things to go wrong."

Purple considered this and conceded with a sigh. He _was_ happy Red had taken the music (it wasn't like Red was the only one of them who enjoyed it), but it was a stupid choice when another option might save his life in the long run. Purple chalked it up to his protective instincts and decided it wasn't worth arguing against. Red was stubborn by nature, and Purple had no desire to make an issue out of something that benefited both of them. It was something nice, regardless of small, that they could take comfort in. Inwardly, he kind of wished that Red had mentioned it sooner. "Never mind," he said with a wave of his hand and a smile, "knock yourself out."

Red happily grabbed an auxiliary cable from what seemed like out of nowhere and plugged the output cord into the corresponding ports in his Pak before repeating the process with the panel's data input jacks. "Somebody ought to go wireless with these things…" he muttered, "it's such a process. Okay, there! I think we've got it." Red accessed his Pak data once the computer recognized the new drive. A list appeared on the screen, and Red explained he had arranged the files by 'Artist'.

"Okay, so, that thing I was playing on number pad before?" He repeated the sequence just in case either the Captain or Spleenk had forgotten, "It's from this." He selected 'Iron Maiden' from the list and then 'The Trooper' off of the drop-down menu that appeared underneath. The opening riff matched the short series of sounds Red had mimicked with the key tones.

Spleenk found himself endlessly amused by this, and even the Captain found he was somewhat entertained. Purple would have laughed at the absurdity; listening to loud Earth music on the bridge of the _Resisty_ 's ship… he could not deny the comfort of the ridiculous spectacle. Red was laughing with Spleenk, and the Captain was engaged with a smile in whatever conversation they were having. It was simple, but it was sufficient.

"That was neat!" Spleenk commented enthusiastically.

"Purple doesn't seem to think so." Red replied with a smirk at his partner.

"I like it just fine," the violet-eyed Irken retorted, "but not when _you're_ doing lead vocals in the shower."

"I _do not_ sing in the shower."

Spleenk and the Captain struggled to contain their laughter and Purple sat in his chair, grinning.

"What? I _don't_!"

"Sweetheart, we could have soundproofed the bathroom and I _still_ would have heard you down the hall."

He grumbled to himself, "Yeah, whatever, Pur."

"I sing in the shower. I'm told it sounds very much like a Slorbeast being backed over with a mass-driver." Spleenk offered.

"Really? Mine is more of a 'dying groan of a beached space-whale'." Lard Nar.

"You know," said Spleenk, "I can kind of see that."

A sudden beep interrupted the conversation, accompanied by a red flashing light on the console and a message-box that appeared on the monitor.

"What's that?" That Captain asked with a hint of suspicion.

"We're getting a wave." Red replied, "Somebody's hailing us."

"Where from?"

Red investigated the signal a bit further. "Fairly close by. The pattern looks like it's a looped message… I think it's a mayday."

The Captain grew very tense, very quickly. "Can we hear it?"

"It'll take a second for me to scramble our line ID." Red went to work immediately and accomplished the task in no time at all. "I'll patch it through."

"… _ething's wrong. Life support's gone offline, the engine's stalled, I'm in total system failure! I've set Mimi up as an external power source for my cryo equipment. Please, someone, if you're out there…. Irken Tak, 1:00:09, Great Big Nothing Sector. Something's wrong. Life support's gone offline,"_

"We should bring her in." Shloonktapooxis suggested from behind the group currently huddled around the communications panel, quite sufficiently startling everyone present.

"When did _you_ get here?!" Lard Nar asked, hand pressed to his racing heart.

"Just before ya started playin' that message. Tenn's stable now, so I thought it'd be cool to come back to the bridge. Y'know?"

"We need to think this through before we _do_ anything." Lard Nar said.

"Whaddya mean?"

"He's right, Shloonktapooxis." Red sighed in grudging agreement. "Tak may be cryo-frozen _now_ , but she won't be very friendly when she wakes up."

"But she's askin' for help!"

"And she'd show her gratitude by murdering the crew and stealing the ship of whoever was kind enough to rescue her." Purple replied. "Tak is clever, and she's _very_ Irken."

"What's she doin' all the way out here, then?"

"Community service." Red explained.

"Irk still has a trace on her." Spleenk said, "Even if we got her to Malterra, the Armada would find us and take the whole moon out."

"I can't _believe_ you guys are talkin' like this! Isn't that kind of thinkin' what made everybody so mad in the first place? Tenn used to be like that! She killed lotsa people, did all kinds of bad stuff, and she got better! Why can't this lady get better, too?"

It really sucked when Shloonktapooxis made sense. The oddly shaped first-mate had an incredible talent for making a person feel like complete shit for holding an opposing point of view.

"…It's a big risk, Shloonktapooxis." Lard Nar replied, "What good would it do anyone to have a hostile on board? Irk will want to know why she's not dead, and they'll come looking for her. We can't handle a direct confrontation, and I don't think we have the means to keep her locked up."

"But- you _can't_ know she'll be like that! What if she's not all hostile?"

Red and Purple exchanged glances, "Tak is the embodiment of hostility, in Irken form." Red replied.

"There's nothing we can do for her, Shloonktapooxis." The Vortian said with a painful, resigned, sigh.

Clearly, the soft-drink- sno-cone creature was not satisfied with Lard Nar's decision. "We started this resistance so we could _help_ people."

"Yes, but we can't be stupid about it!" The Captain insisted. "We can't help _everyone_. You've got to accept that eventually."

"And _you_ get to decide whowe help, huh?" He retorted, somewhat bitterly, "Everybody's okay with letting people die, as long as it's for the 'greater good'. All those innocent people who get caught in the crossfire and stuff, they're just collateral damage to you."

"Don't you _dare_ , Shloonktapooxis." Lard Nar seethed as he glared at his first mate, "After what happened on Vort, after nearly losing Tenn, don't you try to pull the 'moral high-ground' routine with me!"

"All due respect Sir, but if you get the impression I'm talkin' down to you, it's because of where you're standing."

The Vortian's eyes were furious, "The only reason Tenn's still alive is because she drew her gun faster than that crazy son-of-a-bitch could cut her open! If he hadn't missed her vital organs, she'd have died!"

"He didn't _miss_." Red interjected, as if he were making idle commentary about something he was only half-paying attention to, "They never miss."

"He wanted her to feel it. The pain, I mean." Purple added in much the same manner, without missing a beat.

"It's worse when it's slow."

"Makes you helpless."

Lard Nar made a frustrated noise, "That's just what _one of Them_ can do! We don't even know how many there actually are, and sooner or later, we're going to have to make a stand. Is that a fight you _really_ think we're all going to survive?" He sighed, "We have to start thinking tactically if we want to have a chance."

"It's still not right. Just leavin' her out here like this to die."

Everyone avoided eye contact. The arguments for both choices made logical sense, and both of them could have equally disastrous results. Red and Purple were far too familiar with situations like this. The choice between a stranger's life and a lover's safety was never really hard to make. They had always been selfish in that regard and they weren't particularly proud of their less-than-altruistic motives. While they were ashamed of the things they had done for the sake of protecting each other, they both knew that they wouldn't hesitate a second if presented with those circumstances again.

"There's only one way we could take her in _without_ risking everything we've been working for." Purple began, "It's… unfortunately, it's _more_ complicated than the disagreement we're having now. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the option, myself."

"…Shit, Pur, you can't think that's even a _possibility_." Red replied.

"What?" Lard Nar asked.

Purple sighed, "No, I just, I mean, it's something to _consider_."

"For those of us who haven't lived with you long enough to read your mind," the impatient Captain started, "what are you talking about?"

"Red's got a point, and I'm not suggesting or advocating in any way that we do this, but there's always the option of removing her receptors."

"…I don't see the problem."

Red sighed. "You remember what the process was like for Tenn, and she _knew_ she'd signed up for it. Doing something like that… taking away an integral part of someone's identity… we _can't_ do that without consent. It's absolutely unethical."

"How _ethical_ are those receptors in the first place?" The Captain asked, "They exist to make you a mindless drone!"

"And removing them without giving her a choice makes us better than them _how_? In what way does controlling what freedoms we think she ought to have make us any different than the people who put them in?"

"Is a slave a slave if he doesn't know he's a slave?" Spleenk mused aloud.

"That _identity_ is a lie, Red. She doesn't know anything about herself, not how she _really_ is. We'd be giving her a chance at a real life. Why would she resent that?"

"Ever heard the saying 'ignorance is bliss'?" Red asked, "Not everybody wants to see down the rabbit-hole."

"What's a rabbit-hole?"

"A widely-used Earth reference to the well-known literary work of a human called Lewis Carol." Purple answered, to which everyone just stared. "…You try doing _nothing_ for years on end and see if you don't develop a hobby or two. Zim just kept sending things, and you know, it started to pile up. We had to do _something_ with it."

The explanation seemed to suffice. It was clear that no one wanted to be the one to break the silence and acknowledge the unresolved issue from which they'd momentarily digressed.

"You can only be ignorant of something if you've been given more than one option and you _choose freely_ to deny what's real. Otherwise, a person's just _uneducated_ , and that's not their fault. Ignorance is an informed decision, Red. Tak has only ever heard one version of the truth. Giving her an option seems crueler, as long as she's got those things controlling her. She can't understand the situation and she might as well be dead if she's going to live with the receptors because when you can't _feel_ … what else is there?" Lard Nar tried.

"That's a cheap rationalization, and you know it!" Red fumed.

"What about _you_ , then?" The Vortian asked, maintaining the Irken's angry glare without so much as flinching, "What about Purple? You had receptors before we took them out and neither of you changed at all. Explain how _that_ works."

Red sighed in frustration, "I don't know! Maybe we fucked them up when we were younger! Maybe our Paks just function differently! Maybe it's some kind of manufacturing defect too small for the brains to have detected! It doesn't matter _how_ the fuck we work! This isn't about the two of us!"

"One thing I've been curious about from the start but haven't found the time to ask: you were both outstanding Elite Soldiers. So good, they even made you Invaders. You took down Siranah by yourselves, didn't you, Red? That was quite a while _before_ you met Them. You did your patriotic duty like a good little soldier. You even earned a commendation of valor and the perks that went with being a former prisoner-of-war."

If Lard Nar had managed to control his rage, or understand that he was exhausted and hanging by his very last emotional thread, he might not have been so quick to arrogance. If Red had taken the debate perhaps a little less personally, if he'd known what the last few hours had been like for the Captain, he would brushed the Vortian's abrasiveness off the instant he heard it and tried to steer the conversation in a more positive direction. Such was not the case. Red's shaking fists were clenched tightly, and he appeared to be slowly losing whatever will he had that argued against punching the Captain.

The whole scene was like a train wreck in slow motion. Purple, Spleenk, and Shloonktapooxis just watched with a resigned horror, anticipating the collision about to happen. Purple couldn't bring Red back once he'd passed a certain point. He wasn't sure how the hell it had managed to happen so fast, but as soon as Lard Nar mentioned Siranah, Purple knew any influence he might have had over his partner was gone. Pulling him away would only cause Red to take it out elsewhere, usually on Purple or himself, depending on which provoked him first. It was still the same anger, just misdirected.

"Don't think I forgot to do my homework on both of you before I let you _near_ my ship. You had no qualms about the killing _before_ your stint as Tallest. Why the sudden change, I wonder?"

Red eyes narrowed into vicious slits at the Vortian's implication, "Don't you fucking _dare_."

"They fucked with everything else. How hard would it have been to plug you in and make a few adjustments while you were out? Sounds like the perfect insurance policy to me."

The silence that fell on the group was cold and harsh, oddly comparable to the sensation of bare flesh submerged in snow.

"You want to leave this room." Purple interrupted the Captain in a stoic voice. His expression was more grave and hardened than Lard Nar had ever remembered seeing it. Hurt and anger burned in violet eyes. He did not have to speak to communicate the sentiment, _"if we hadn't talked earlier, I'd snap your neck in at least six places"_.

"…We still haven't made a decision…." Shloonktapooxis said in a delicate, hesitant voice.

"Yes, we have." Purple replied firmly, "Send a rescue transport. Scavenge her ship for anything we can use or sell and get her to the Medical Bay. Tell them to take her out of cryo and extract her receptors but leave them intact. Make sure they keep the connections in her Pak live, and terminate her signal as soon as possible. I want Tenn standing by so when Tak wakes up on Malterra, she'll have an Irken to talk to that _isn't_ Red or I. Tenn is going to find out what happened, and give Tak the short version of everything. If she tries to attack, or if there's even a hint of trouble, we'll put the receptors back in and give her a dose of NoRecall to make her forget she was here, delete it from her memory drives, and send her back to the Compost Planet. Does that sound like a reasonably ethical compromise?"

No one spoke against the suggestion, so Shloonktapooxis took the opportunity to leave the group of very tense aliens and get started on implementing Purple's idea. Red simply stood up, turned away from everyone, and walked off without a word. Purple knew not to follow him, though part of him wanted to. The other part of him craved time to be alone in silence and think. For the first time in a long while, Purple knew that he would not find ease or comfort in his partner. Lard Nar's words had not been meant for him, but that did not dull the pain or soothe the anxiety they provoked. He didn't hold a personal grudge against the Vortian, but the suggestion he had made was the cheapest shot he could have possibly taken at either of them. Those terrible words rang in his head and he thought of Red and felt sick.

He'd loved Red before they'd been broken… hadn't he? Why else would he have called out for him in between screams, over the sound of his own bones breaking? He had always been attracted to the red-eyed Irken, there was no way he could deny that. He could recall sitting in that dreadful biology class, unable to so much as _look_ at Red for fear of his own thoughts, the ones he knew he shouldn't have. He had gone out of his way to do things for his partner, small favors and sometimes larger gestures simply because he loved the way Red smiled. He always had, from the first time he saw it.

It wasn't romanticized nostalgia. They weren't artificial feelings installed after the fact. Purple could remember being dragged to the floor, wrestling on a daily basis at the Academy… how he would sometimes let the other Irken win just for the lightheaded, almost dizzying sensation of what it felt like to look up at him and watch him breathing roughly with that trademark grin on his lips. Purple used to shake when he threw a fight just to feel Red's fingers curled around his wrists and their bodies pressing against each other. He memorized the way Red fought and how he moved, and he had no problem taking the other Irken to the ground in a single effort; and he knew there were times Red intended to lose as well. His movements would be entirely different, lighter, with no force behind them. _Those_ movements allowed him prolonged physical contact with Purple that looked like sport, but the violet-eyed Irken could only assume they were as pleasurable for Red as they had been for him. They would _never_ have dreamed such things if the attraction between them had been fabricated (and oh, he _certainly_ dreamed). If the desire had been real, then there was no reason that their affection wasn't just as honest. He'd never felt only one emotion in regard to his partner; it had always been a mix. When he looked at Red, he never saw just _one_ thing.

He didn't understand why he had felt selectively for Red for so long, but he assumed it had something to do with what Lard Nar had said before. You do what you're told because it's all you know. If it's never challenged, if you never bother to question it, think about it, or take issue with some part of it, you can't possibly be expected to understand that there might be something beyond where the proverbial sidewalk ends. He had no reason to question his assignments; as far as he was concerned, Irk was his home and it was his duty to protect it. His eyes had not been opened until it was too late.

He was glad he'd managed to make sense of his confusion and minor crisis of faith. It would not be half so easy for Red, though.

"…I'm sorry, Purple… about what I said before… that was uncalled for."

"It was _beyond_ 'uncalled for'. It was cruel. I have so many choice words for you right now, but because I know what you're going through, I'm going to bite my tongue."

Lard Nar stared at the ground like a guilty child.

"But if you _ever_ insinuate _anything_ like that about my mate and I again, I won't be so understanding."

The Vortian was finally hit with the sense of how deeply his words had cut his friends, and deeply regretted what he'd said. He had taken the one thing that Red and Purple managed to keep faith in all those years and made both of them question it. He'd made them doubt the only thing that had made their lives worth living. Worse than that, he had implied every action they had carried out for the sake of each other's well being was based on something fabricated.

"Come on, 'Nar," Spleenk's voice said gently, "I think Purple would appreciate some time alone."

Purple's expression did not change, though he was incredibly grateful for Spleenk's suggestion. Lard Nar would be all right as long as Spleenk was close by. The Vortian had too much weighing on his mind right now, and Purple was in no condition to take on someone else's problems, especially Lard Nar's.

The Captain grudgingly followed Spleenk out. He didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do, given the situation, but Spleenk seemed to have a destination in mind so he followed the four-armed alien thoughtlessly, until they came to a halt in front of Lard Nar's quarters.

"I think you need some time to relax." Spleenk explained, "You look like hell."

"Thanks."

"You know what I mean, 'Nar. You're not yourself. I think you have to take a minute and make sense of everything."

The Captain laughed in a voice drained of all humor, "Make sense of _what,_ Spleenk? Everything is so completely absurd that there's nothing left to make sense of! We've taken our former enemies on board as allies, we're fighting an enemy we know next to _nothing_ about, I'm having ethical arguments with _Irkens_ , my home is gone, I _fucked_ ," Lard Nar stopped himself short, "…up in a _colossal_ way! Between my ineptitude, your neuroses, Red's fault complex, Purple's passive-aggressiveness, and Shloonktapooxis's bleeding heart, it's a wonder we're all still alive!" He offered a laugh with traces of mania, "We're all mad here!"

Spleenk just sighed. "Come on, 'Nar. You're exhausted. We'll talk about it once we've got some privacy, all right? Give me your keycode and I'll get the door."

Lard Nar wasn't sure when he'd started trembling, but Spleenk probably was. He couldn't have punched in the sequence even if the lives of several small children depended on it.

"…It's okay if you'd rather not tell me, it _is_ your private quarters and all. I just don't think you should be on your feet much longer. You look exhausted."

The Vortian shook his head in protest with frightened eyes.

"What's wrong?" Spleenk asked with no small degree of concern in his voice, "…Do you not want me in your room?"

He shook his head.

"Hey, I'm- I'm all right with that," he started, trying to hide the hurt on his face, "I don't expect you,"

"Spleenk," Lard Nar managed, "I don't want to go back into that room. Please… don't leave me alone."

Spleenk's features softened, "Never. Come on, we'll go to my bunk instead. Are you all right with that?"

The Captain nodded, hating how fragile and desperate he must look. He was not in the frame of mind to care, though. The two of them walked in a neutral, comfortable silence until they reached Spleenk's door. He still didn't know _what_ he was supposed to do, so he didn't do anything.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"I don't remember." He answered. He was far too gone to bother with maintaining a façade. Spleenk was going to hate him in the end anyway, so what did it matter if he told the truth?

"…You can talk to me, you know that, right?" Spleenk offered, "I know it's cliché and everybody says it until you say something they don't like, but I mean it. I want you to know that I'll be here… whenever you need me, as long as you need me."

Lard Nar was torn between the desire to scream until he passed out, break down in uncontrollable sobbing, or to throw himself out the airlock.

"…Did I say something wrong?"

"Don't you ever get tired of wasting your time?"

Spleenk did not appear to understand what the Captain meant, "What are you talking about?"

"All this… it's too much. I don't deserve it, I don't deserve _you_. You can't _fix_ that."

He shook his head, "Sit down, 'Nar. I'm going to explain why everything you just said is completely wrong."

The Vortian sat and listened out of courtesy, knowing that whatever Spleenk was going to say would be futile in changing his mind.

"Being there for you isn't _too much_. It's the least two people can do for each other. Listening is the basis for any relationship, personal or professional. So, _no_ , I'm not going out of my way for you. It's not an inconvenience or an exclusive service; I'm not your therapist. I don't _want_ to be. You're a friend and my Captain, and those two positions alone deserve the very least I can do, which is to listen. I may not be good at very many things, but I'm a hell of a listener. It's no burden to ask me to do the _one thing_ I'm good at.

"For the record, don't ever make the mistake of thinking I'm trying to fix you. People don't 'fix' each other, they _can't_. If something needs to be fixed, all I can do is listen and offer support. _You're_ the only one who can fix yourself. If I took responsibility for your emotional growth, _you_ wouldn't be growing, would you? If I carry your burdens for you, what are you going to do when I hand them back over? A person can't build strength unless they start small and increase over time. I might be able to carry my shit _and_ your shit without having a complete breakdown, but when that uphill climb is over, you're even weaker than when you _started_. Is this metaphor making sense? I like metaphors, they make abstract concepts easier to understand… well, for me, at least."

Lard Nar just nodded that he was still following.

"Good. So, like what I said before, all I can do is support you. I can keep you from slipping if you let me, and if it hurts too much, I can bear _some_ of the weight until you're strong enough to take it on again. I can't fix you, I can't change you, I don't want to, and I shouldn't have to. I accept you, good and bad. I'm _far_ from perfect. I've done things I wish I hadn't. I've made my fair share of regrets. I've got secrets I'm ashamed of. So does _everyone_. That's life. You understand what I'm trying to say?"

"Yes." He nodded, averting his eyes.

"I don't need you to explain anything right now. I know it's going to be a while before things are right again, and I don't expect you to be okay. I know you've got to hold it together in front of the crew, but you don't have to do that for me. I don't care if you're a mess. It doesn't change how I feel about you."

Lard Nar almost cringed from the pain that tore through his chest. Hearing that particular admission with such genuine concern and warmth made him feel disgusted with himself, as if his _presence_ alone was a betrayal. "Don't."

"Don't, what, 'Nar?"

"…Feel _anything_ about me." He replied weakly, looking away.

Spleenk sighed, "I know that _this_ isn't the proper time or place for this conversation… you need to rest, and you've been through way too much in the last day and a half, but I… I can't do that."

Lard Nar had never thought the words he'd been so desperate to hear from the alien sitting opposite him could hurt so much.

"You have to."

"Why?"

"You deserve better."

"I _don't want_ better. I want _you_."

The Vortian finally broke. The physical pain was excruciating, like nothing he'd ever felt before; like what he imagined it might feel like to be completely torn apart by bits of shrapnel. The mattress shifted as Spleenk sat down and put two cautious arms around the Vortian. He shuddered violently, dry-heaving in response to the contact. He almost wished he had eaten something; then maybe his body would be able to stop trying to force out what could not be expelled. Spleenk could sense that the Captain's condition was a reaction to his proximity and he could not suppress the pained expression that broke across his features.

"I know this is the wrong time, but… I want you to know that I'll wait for you."

"…Don't." He choked out.

"'Nar… what's this about?" Spleenk asked with concern.

The Vortian didn't answer.

"It's about _him_ , isn't it?"

Confused, he wasn't sure how to respond.

Spleenk sighed. "I understand, you know. Why you did it. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't upset, but… just tell me that you don't love him."

"… What did Purple tell you?"

Spleenk shook his head with a sad smile, "Nothing at all. I wanted to check in on you, and I saw him heading for your room. Told him to get his ass back to the cargo bay, or we'd put him in holding for the rest of the trip. He told me who he was to you, not that I hadn't guessed from what happened the first time he came for an unannounced visit." Spleenk explained, "He said it'd be best if I gave you time alone. That I'd make it worse for you, and that we both should let you figure things out. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, figured he knew you sixteen years, and I didn't have anything next to that. Should've known better."

"I was drunk." Lard Nar admitted after a long moment of heavy silence. "I just wanted him to leave but he wouldn't go. I don't know why I let it happen…."

"You were scared. You were alone and scared and you were grieving, and drunk. I've been there… and I'll believe you if you say that it didn't mean anything."

"But why?"

"Because I trust you." Lard Nar was about to respond when Spleenk cut him off, "Please, get some rest. We can talk about it later, if you want to, all right?"

The Vortian just nodded, so far past exhausted that he couldn't tell if _this_ was reality anymore. With a removed sort of daze, he allowed Spleenk to help him until he was lying down comfortably. He struggled to keep his heavy, swollen eyelids open, but it was a failed effort.

Spleenk just sat in the chair beside the bed and waited while the Vortian slept. He never could have nice things. Whenever it seemed that something he wanted just might work out, it was never long before everything crashed and burned. Everything good either passed him by or slipped through his fingers, no matter how frantically or tightly he grasped at them. The gentler he handled something, the easier it broke. He had the uncanny ability for understanding anyone (or at least, the ability to do a wonderfully accurate psychological profile), but no one could ever understand him. He often felt like he functioned on a plane of existence all his own. He always offered a unique perspective, but it was terribly lonely.

He didn't know which upset him more, that Lard Nar had slept with someone else or the conditions under which it had occurred. This wasn't even the usual, forgivable drunk dialing of an ex at two in the morning because you were drunk at two in the morning, and you weren't going to get laid for free anyplace else. This seemed much more like the "got-drunk-at-a-frat-party-and-woke-up-next-to-something-I'd-rather-gnaw-my-own-leg-off-than-be-in-the-same-room-with" type of situation.

Spleenk knew that Lard Nar had not meant to hurt him. The Vortian had no talent when it came to lying in one-on-one scenarios. Yes, he could give one hell of a convincing public speech, but when it was a conversation on a personal level, the Captain was a _very_ bad liar and Spleenk was quite good at discerning dishonesty. The truth was that the Vortian had his personal space violated in the last several hours, in addition to the trauma of their last mission and the unintended consequences that had followed it. By the time the disagreement over the Tak dilemma had taken place, Lard Nar had likely been stifling so much internalized pain, it seized the first opportunity for relief that presented itself: anger. Red's stubbornness was no help, but no one could fault the Irken for defending his position. Lard Nar probably hadn't even thought about _why_ he wanted to personally attack Red where he knew that the other would be weakest. Spleenk knew the answer, though. The Captain had unconsciously wanted to hurt Red because he didn't want to be alone. It was a universal truth that misery was quite the faithful mistress with a particular affection for company. No matter how deeply a person hurt or had been hurt by another, they would each take perverse comfort in knowing that the other was feeling just as miserable.

He hoped that Red and Purple were all right. Whenever they appeared to have finally confronted something, another huge problem somehow manifested itself. Spleenk did not have faith in all that much, but one of the few things did believe in was the two of them. If they had come this far, nothing short of death was going to stop them. Hell, even _that_ wasn't going to be enough. When he factored in the possibility of somehow losing either Red or Purple, Spleenk knew it would provoke a wrath unlike anything the universe had ever imagined. These bastards, whoever they were, would come to know pain; he was sure of it. He sincerely hoped _both_ Irkens would be alive and well (as well as they were capable of being, at least) when that time came.

He knew revenge was a destructive thing, but he honestly did not believe that it was the genuine motivation for anyone's actions, so far as the people he associated with. Lard Nar, Shloonktapooxis, himself, Red, Purple, and Tenn (from what he'd pieced together)… they were all looking for justice. He hoped the same would be true of this "Zim" the former dictators kept referencing. Even if it wasn't, even _if_ someone went awry, Spleenk would have faith. Not much… only the weakest glow of embers turning to ash, struggling against the insurmountable burden of rekindling an impossibly large fire. He would watch them flicker, but he would never believe that _anything_ could completely destroy it. If everything he knew disappointed him in the end, even if he watched them part with his own eyes, Spleenk would never lose the faith he had in Red and Purple.

He sighed, taking in the sight of the Vortian passed out on his bed. It was painful to see him in such a state. Something his mother had once said to him came to mind. She'd been right (Spleenk wondered for a moment if there was ever anything she'd been _wrong_ about) back then, and her words still held true. He knew she was right, but it did not make it easier to watch 'Nar suffer.

Oh, suffering. There were few other words and phrases abused so badly. One was "sympathy". The other was "I love you". "Those pants don't make you look fat" ranked pretty high up on the list as well (he could be humorous in his own head). The world never seemed to do anything but whine. It complained relentlessly about how inconsiderate everyone was, and then turned around and slammed the door in your face. Spleenk was proud of the resistance they had built. He hadn't believed it would work when he signed up. Truthfully, he'd gotten tired of hauling illegal cargo. The crew hadn't been too savory and the Empire was getting _much_ tighter on security. Not a week after he'd left, he heard the ship had been discovered, raided, and the crew he'd worked with had been sent off to the Shrieking Void. Spleenk had never been so grateful for his short attention span.

He had joined, and they drifted about aimlessly for a while. That was okay, because Spleenk had been in very much the same kind of place and slowly, began to make a home for himself here. He watched as the movement began to develop, gaining support and allies and finally organizing itself. He sat quietly and watched without interfering as all kinds of creatures put their differences aside (even if they did so somewhat grudgingly), and agreed to work together. Yes, there had been power struggles at the beginning, there had been issues raised as to how things should be run and by whom. Spleenk had expected that trying to work together would have been what ultimately had the power to tear the universe apart. He had been so, so grateful to have witnessed otherwise.

He was not naive enough to assume that the governments of everyone currently involved with the resistance were in support of their efforts. The leaders (that had been granted the permission to live) remained "in power" to oversee and report to the Empire regarding the status of the planet (or what it had been turned in to) were quite complicit with Irk. They might have despised the nature of their job description, but they were all right with the perks of being owned and supported by the Empire. Spleenk hated politics and everything that went along with it. It always came down to party lines and taking sides, instead of getting intelligent people together in a room and saying, "Okay, guys, _this_ isn't working. Let's throw some ideas around and see what we can do". It was never about fixing anything, not in this day and age.

In spite of all that, though, they somehow stripped away the politics and pettiness and found what the early stages of the unorganized movement had been missing. They had been fighting over ownership of what turned out to be an empty core. Only once that realization set in for everyone did they understand it was the heart that had been lost. No one was perfect and they all still had their fair share of disagreements. Nonetheless, they were a group of people with IQs higher than that of bathroom mold, so Spleenk was generally happy to allow everyone their faults.

He had his share of faults as well, and there was no point in trying to pretend otherwise. Like he had told Lard Nar earlier, he had regrets and he'd made a proverbial bed that had been rather uncomfortable to sleep in on certain occasions. All furniture wears itself out, though, and depending on how much it endures, for some people, there comes a time when you have to accept that in order to sleep peacefully again, you need to buy a new one. Spleenk knew the metaphor didn't translate to reality terribly well, but the concept, he felt, was appropriate enough. Sometimes, to save yourself, you have to start over.

Spleenk got the feeling that Lard Nar had never really done that, in terms of his last relationship or even the events that led him to the resistance in the first place. The Vortian had a great deal of personal things he needed to work through, and Spleenk was all right with that. He was furious at the ex, though, and nothing was going to ease that. It wasn't right to take advantage of someone when they can't really say "no". Yes, Lard Nar had been fully aware of what was happening, and he had willingly consented even though he may not have wanted to, but it didn't matter. Prisoner #777 (fuck if he knew the guy's actual name), as far as Spleenk was concerned, deserved a profound kind of pain.

Yes, Spleenk knew that revenge was a destructive thing. He also knew that destruction was just another form of creation.

* * *

"So, yeah, we were hopin' you wouldn't mind helpin' out…." Shloonktapooxis finished, having relayed their latest situation to the small Irken who sat listening on the edge of her cot in the medical bay.

She blinked once, silent for a moment. "Why does all the interesting stuff happen when I'm incapacitated?"

"That's not true, you were there when we tried ta hold you for ransom an' called

Red and Purple. _That_ was pretty interesting."

"Point taken." She said in reply before exhaling, "So what exactly am I supposed to do with Tak when she wakes up?"

"Purple said you should make sure she doesn't go crazy or nothin'."

"Oh great," She feigned enthusiasm, "glad I took care of that pesky _stab wound_ so I can get ripped apart by the most ill-tempered Irken _ever_."

"She can't be _that_ bad... can she?" Shloonktapooxis replied uneasily.

"Look Shloonktapooxis, I know it didn't look like _I_ had much capacity for change at the start of things. I don't think the universe has a word for the incredible bitch I was, but I was generally tolerant of other Invaders; any Irken of my rank or above it. Tak… she just always gave me the impression that she'd snap any second and go for the jugular. I _hated_ sparring with her, I swear, I thought she actually wanted to kill me." Tenn sighed, flopping down onto the cot, "That's ancient history, now, I suppose. I just hope Purple knows what he's getting himself and the rest of us in to by bringing her on board."

A look of unease spread over Shloonktapooxis face, and he was grateful Tenn could not see it from her current position. "Whaddya mean?"

"You know what I mean, Shloonktapooxis." She answered, sitting up again, pulling her knees to her chest, "Her signal can lead Irk straight to Malterra. If they know she's here, and they scan for tech, which they _would_ ," she continued, shifting to lie on her stomach, rolling onto her back and finally seemed comfortable once she'd moved forward enough to be hanging upside-down, "they'll find it and _that_ means a world of trouble. Not to mention the homicidal rampage she could possibly go on."

"Why does _everybody_ think she's gonna go killin' people?" He asked, exasperated.

"Because," Tenn said seriously, meeting his eyes, "she _can_."

"But you couldda done that, too! And you were fine!"

She shook her upside-down head, "I knew I signed up for it. When I woke up the first time, before they thought to use sedatives, the pain was unbearable. I don't blame them, they couldn't have known. Red and Purple weren't affected by their receptors in the first place, so nothing happened when they were removed. My brain… completely freaked out, is the scientific way to say it, I think." She smiled, "Point is, it was pretty bad. Tak's gonna be mildly sedated, of course, but she'll only have pain blockers. She'll be unsteady, but her Pak will compensate for her overworked brain and give her enough adrenaline to take out the whole ship. She'd pass out immediately afterward, and probably die, but we're already dead in that scenario, so what good does it do us?"

"Isn't there a _small_ chance she might be, ya know, _open_ to the idea?"

Tenn smiled, "Don't change, Shloonktapooxis." She sighed. "As for being open to the idea… how open you think you'd be if you woke up in a strange place with your perception off-balance and someone telling you that your whole life is a lie, and all those people you've murdered and exploited are on _your_ brand-new conscience?"

Shloonktapooxis thought he might be sick.

"I'll give it my best, though." She said, finally sitting up and reorienting herself to face the first mate, "We'll just have to wait and see what happens."

* * *

When they were young, they'd established a rule that no matter the issue, whenever one of them had a problem they were only allowed a maximum of three hours to be left alone. Any longer would make an issue increasingly harder to let go of or resolve. It was especially obvious, now, what extensive damage the things they kept to themselves had done when left alone for such a long time. Sometimes, though, a person needed their own time to come to terms with an issue before they were ready to address it with another. When the three-hour time limit expired, Purple sighed and abandoned his post to Sally's assistant, who offered to monitor it remotely until he returned.

Red was exactly where Purple thought he'd be.

"Knew I'd find you here." He said lightly with the trace of a nostalgic, affectionate smile.

Red didn't offer a response. He just sat, staring blankly out at the vast expanse of empty, open space in front of him.

Purple sighed and said nothing, sitting down with his legs hanging off the edge of the maintenance walkway. He folded his arms on the lower beam of the metal railing and he waited for a long time.

"How?" Red asked in a voice drained of all inflection.

Purple shook himself into attentiveness. "Come again?"

"How'd you know where to find me?" Red still hadn't looked at him.

"You love places like this." Purple explained, "Whenever you needed to get away, or if you wanted to think… you said all the space made everything seem smaller."

"Or maybe that's what _They_ wanted us to believe, so it'd be easier to monitor us."

Purple shook his head.

Red didn't even need to change his focus to understand Purple's reply. "The both of us just _happen_ to like empty places _this_ high off the ground?" Red snorted.

"I _fucking hate_ heights." Purple replied idly, as if the statement meant nothing.

"What?" Red turned his head this time. "You seem fine to me and we're, what? Eleven stories up?"

"I'm scared shitless right now, Sweetheart."

"Yeah, right. You look positively _terrified._ What, with the way you're _not doing_ any of the things any of the things you _always_ do when you're nervous. You've _never_ been anything but calm."

He laughed, "I was calm for _you_. I mean, when we were just kids it was because I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of you, so I controlled it. Mostly. I used to tell you I was cold when I couldn't stop shaking."

"Bullshit." Red replied, "You were always fine after five minutes or so."

"Only when you held me."

The other Irken had no reply, though he still didn't look like he believed his partner completely.

"I learned to deal with it because I loved being with you. Even as a kid, Red. You mean more to me than my overwhelming acrophobia, so I made myself forget about it for a while."

"I want to believe you. But 'I love you' isn't enough this time."

"I know." Purple admitted with a sigh. "That's why I brought this," he said, holding up a unique-looking cable, "We may want to go back to the room, though… I've never done this before, so I don't know what to expect, and falling eleven stories would be a shitty way to die."

"What's that?" He nodded toward the cable in his partner's hand, "What are you talking about?"

"This plugs my memory storage into your sensory inputs. You'll have complete control over everything I've ever felt, in every way."

"How's it different from the holo-visor?"

"It's a direct connection, and the program interface is completely different. The visor just gives you basic replay. This… you'll literally be in my head. You have access to everything, down to what I was thinking at the time of whatever memory you want."

"How will _this_ prove anything?"

"Maybe once you know how I feel, you'll be able to figure out if it's genuine or not."

"And you're comfortable with it?"

He offered a nervous smile, "It scares me a little, but I love you more than it scares me, so I can deal with it."

"And I can 'be in' any memory I want?"

"Any memory."

"What happens to you while I'm re-living your life?"

"…I don't know. I think I re-live it, too."

"You're giving me complete and total control of your mind and your body, and everything you've gone through,"

"Don't make it more complicated than it is. It's like being afraid of heights. The first rule is: don't look down. Just do it, so we can get through this and go to dinner; I'm getting hungry."

Red almost smiled, "All right."

* * *

"…So…" Dib started, glancing at his former nemesis.

"What is it, Pointy-Haired Dib Child?"

He gave a short sigh of resignation before responding, "How much longer should we give him in there?"

"…Hmm." Zim thoughtfully considered Dib's question. How long had it taken him to come to grips with the information Skooge had been given? Truthfully, Zim knew he _still_ hadn't, and he'd read the message over six hundred eighty-eight times. "…I'm not sure."

"It's been an hour and a half."

"Hey, when your entire world turns out to be a lie, tell me how long the proper adjustment period should be, all right?"

Dib laughed bitterly under his breath, "Too late."

"What was that, putrid human?"

He exhaled heavily, "Nothing, Zim. Nothing at all."

The alien gave him a skeptical glance but didn't pursue the issue any farther. The Dib would discuss it if he wanted to. Zim seriously doubted he'd be able to make the boy shut up once he got going, so if he had anything he felt compelled to say, the Irken was fairly sure that Dib would have no problem saying it. "I don't know how it's all going to affect him. Is he going to be calm and rational, hysterical, terrified, catatonic… do you understand?"

"Yeah. It's kind of a lot to swallow. If we go in before he's had enough time to get over the shock, we might do more harm than good."

Zim cringed at the notion of doing "good", but there was no use in fighting it now.

"On the other hand," Dib continued, "the longer we wait, the longer it'll be until we can try to contact _your_ Tallests."

Zim _almost_ smiled at the boy's consideration in calling them _his_ Tallests. _Almost_. "Fair point." Zim paused, deep in thought for a moment, "I suppose I could ask the Computer to monitor his life signs. If he's not showing signs of distress or agitation, we can assume it's safe to go in."

"Great idea!"

"Computer!" Zim called the AI to duty, "If you could do us a favor and monitor Skooge's life signs, it would be great. Just let us know when they're stable, okay?"

"Um… yeah. Sure. I guess I can do that." The chronically-agitated machine replied in a perplexed voice.

"Thanks, Computer."

"…Sir, are you experiencing a malfunction?"

"Ehhh, what?"

"Are you _sure_ you haven't damaged your Personality Profile? …Or you brain?"

"Zim is fine, Rust Bucket, now please monitor Skooge?"

"…Did you just call me _Rust Bucket_ , Sir?"

The Irken sighed, "I snapped. I did not intend to. I will be… more aware, from now on."

"…Uh, thanks. Yeah. Gonna go do that thing for you now…"

"…Zim has treated that machine _terribly_ in the past." He said; his face addressed no one, but since he had spoken it out loud, Dib assumed it was directed toward him.

"You couldn't have done it any differently under the circumstances."

"I should get some of those cherry-flavored microchips he likes. At least, I _think_ he likes them."

"I think he'll appreciate that, Zim."

Zim's neutral expression gave way to frustration, "What am I doing, Dib-Thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"This… this isn't _me_! I don't _ask_ for things, I take them! I go out of my way to be a jerk, I _don't_ apologize! I don't try to fix things, I'm supposed to _destroy_ them! That's what I am, but I don't _feel_ it anymore! Words that aren't mine keep coming out before I can stop them, before I even know I'm going to say them! And I _hate_ that it feels more natural than anything I've ever done! It's just… I just… it… I…." Zim burst out, not violently, but there was tremendous vigor behind his words.

Dib recognized the desperation in his face and he ignored the voice in his head that urged him against feeling sympathy. "…I think _this_ is who you're supposed to be."

"This? _This?_ I don't even know what _this_ is! Do you?! Did I miss something?!"

"I think…" Words failed the boy for a moment and he took a breath to collect himself and clear his head, "I think that the receptors in your Pak kept you from ever reacting the way you were supposed to."

The Irken said nothing, refusing to acknowledge that Dib's theory wasn't only plausible, but sound and valid.

"Your instincts, your impulses… everything that makes you the proper _you_ got filtered and stripped, and only let a little bit through. You're still _Zim_ , as far as I can tell."

"What do you know, Pig-Boy?"

Dib smirked, "I know you still like to insult me. Your speech patterns don't change all that much. Actually… the only thing that's really different from where I'm standing is that you're not holding a weapon in my face." He sighed, and then continued, "There are things that come with a conscience, Zim. You know that even better than I do. How you feel and how you cope affect the kind of person you become. You're acting in accordance with your conscience, as much as I never thought I'd be saying those words to you in this kind of a situation, and that means you're going to act differently sometimes. Most of the time. Well, maybe,"

"I get it, Monkey-Brain."

"Good." Dib replied, inwardly wondering how he was going to manage working alongside two emotionally unstable Irkens. Dib slightly smiled to himself, _'I guess_ everybody's _got something wrong about them'._ "You all right, for now?"

Zim shrugged, "For the moment, I suppose."

"So… you hungry?"

"For what, your disgusting human-food?"

"Yeah. I was thinking pizza. Think you can tolerate it?"

Zim sighed, a little more dramatically than was necessary. "As long as you swear on your enormous head that you'll never mention any of… that… that just happened to _anyone_."

Dib rolled his eyes. "I swear, okay?"

"On your enormous head?"

Dib sighed, "On my head, Zim. Let's get something delivered, I'm starving."

* * *

Purple plugged the last input cable into the corresponding slot in Red's Pak and sat back with a sigh. "It works on a neural interface. Just start the program whenever you're ready."

There was a part of Red that felt absolutely deplorable for making his partner endure such an indignity as he turned to face him, and another part of him that was still in disbelief that Purple trusted him to such an extent. He knew he shouldn't _need_ proof of something like this, but if the one thread that held his life together had never really been there, it was only a matter of time before everything would come undone. He needed to be sure that what they'd done to keep each other alive had been motivated by something real. Maybe it was extreme, but he could not deny that he'd feel so much more at ease there was a way to find an answer.

' _Start program.'_ He said inwardly. _'Access_ Memory Storage _. Find all entries tagged "Red". Play flagged entries.'_

Slowly, Red found himself easing into Purple's consciousness. There were voices all around, but things were still blurry. After a moment or so, colors and shapes came into focus and he found himself standing quietly at the back of whatever very large room he was in, staring intently at his shoes. Shoes, which took him longer than it should have to notice, were very, _very_ small. He took in his surroundings, and saw several hundred smeets all running amok and generally causing chaos before he fixed his attention on the ground again.

" _Hi!"_

Purple failed to look up until he felt a light tap on his shoulder. Through Purple's eyes, Red saw himself as a smeet smiling back at Purple.

" _Hi!"_ He repeated with a smile.

"… _Are you talking to me?"_ _Is he talking to me? Why is he talking to me? Did I do something – he doesn't_ look _angry…_ Red felt Purple's confusion and felt confused himself.

" _No, the_ other _kid standing by himself in the back of the room."_

Purple turned his head, looking for said kid. _"But I don't see anyone else…"_

Red flashed what would become his trademark smile, _"Exactly."_

Purple flushed slightly and could not suppress the grin he tried desperately to keep from breaking out on his face.

Red had smiled back, _"So you_ do _smile, after all."_

" _Looks like it."_

" _Why are you all by yourself?"_

The violet-eyed smeet shifted nervously, _"I'm… I'm not… I don't think people like me very much."_

" _Why do you think that?"_

" _...A couple of them called me names, and the big, stupid one said I was ugly."_

" _I don't think you're ugly."_

"… _You don't?"_

He shook his head. _"I think you're the prettiest Irken I ever met."_

Red felt embarrassed for himself, but Purple blushed at the compliment. _"You mean it?"_

" _Yep! Just look at_ that _guy, over there."_ He said, pointing out one of the shortest, and unfortunately, most overweight smeet, "that _guy is short_ and _ugly."_

Purple laughed.

" _Do you want to be my friend?"_

_Nobody ever wants to be my friend… he's so nice and funny and I bet he's good at everything… why does he want a friend like me? "But everyone in this room probably wants to be your friend."_

" _Well I don't want anyone else_ _in this room to be my friend but you."_

"… _Why?"_

" _They're all_ boring _."_ The red-eyed smeet explained, _"They're all the same. You're different. I like that."_

" _You like me 'cause I'm different?"_

Red nodded _, "Yep."_

" _They make fun of me 'cause I'm different."_

" _So we'll make fun of_ them _."_

" _You mean it?"_

He nodded with a smiled.

"… _Okay. I want you to be my friend, too."_

" _Good! My name's Red."_

" _I'm Purple."_

" _You have a nice name."_

" _So do you. It's not like the other's."_

" _See, we're_ both _different."_

Purple smiled.

" _Come on, let's go play something."_

"… _H-hey, Red,"_ he stammered, nervousness buzzing in his brain.

" _Yes?"_

" _Um… I – I, um… I think you're really pretty, too."_ He said, placing a very quick, light kiss on the other's lips.

It was Red's turn to blush and smile like a moron. _"That made me happy."_

Red felt the relief of Purple's younger self. _"Me too."_

Red was surprised how he'd almost completely forgotten the day they met. They had been so young and there was so much between them, so much of it being trauma, and he supposed it wasn't strange that he would have forgotten. Red could barely consciously recall life without Purple. Yes, his Pak stored all his information, but there was no reason he should have even thought to access this one. When he did, he never bothered to remember it this far.

As they'd gotten older and learned the Irken laws and restrictions, he started to worry that his feelings and instincts made him a defect so he tried to bury the embarrassing memories and thoughts. After enough worrying, when he'd finally realized that he'd fallen in love with Purple, he stopped caring about the control brains.

When the next memory began, the first thing he felt was sick. His eyes ached. He instantly recognized that Purple had been crying from the intermittent, soft sounds and the somewhat unsteady rhythm of his breathing. Purple's thoughts were moving fast, and Red had a difficult time settling in.

_Why can't I make it stop?_ Red didn't know what his partner was referring to, but he wasn't confused for long. He saw the series of images that flashed through the other's mind and Purple began to cry again. _I can't think about_ him _like that, I can't think about_ those things… _it's not right, I'm not supposed to, oh god, there's something wrong with me."_

Red recognized the situation. He'd spent nights of his own in a similar position, panicking over the unspeakable things he dreamed of doing with his friend. Of course, back then, what he'd considered 'unspeakable' now had a PG rating.

The short clip faded out and another took its place. He was warm, looking up at the sky from a vantage point well off the ground. Some kind of building he'd gotten to the roof of through the maintenance door. Arms were wrapped around him protectively. He was warm, but still shaking. Shaking, and absolutely terrified.

" _How cold_ are _you, Pur? You're shivering like it's the middle of winter on Vahampire, or something."_

" _S-sorry." If I wasn't so scared right now, I'd kill you, but I love you too much to kill you so I'm stuck up_ here.

" _Hey, don't be sorry, I feel bad you're so uncomfortable. You can get closer, you know. I've had all my shots."_

Purple laughed and hesitantly leaned into the other Irken. He heard Red sigh before he was pulled against Red's chest. _"Better?"_

Purple closed his eyes and sighed, _"Much." Okay, so maybe this isn't_ so _bad. If you keep holding me and I keep my eyes shut, I'll be all right._

Red felt sharp, throbbing pain still hot and searing overwhelming his senses and he nearly seized. He couldn't move. Oh god, he knew exactly where he was.

" _I love you."_

Purple was crying in his head, but he wasn't sad. A moment of euphoria broke through the pain for few blessed seconds and he'd never experienced happiness like this. _Please, let this be real. If this is real then I'll be all right. I'll_ make it _be all right oh god, Red, I'm so happy… I don't care how broken I am, I'm happy. They want my life but if this is real, I'm gonna fight Them for it. I'll fucking die for it, I'll die for you if I have to; They want us to die so They can have the rest of our lives but if you want it, Red, I'll give mine to you._

Red was sure that his physical body was crying.

He felt lust near immediately. Heard their breathing next. He couldn't see anything, but he soon realized it was because his partner's eyes had been closed. Once the disorientation stopped, he was finally able to hear Purple's inner monologue.

_Oh God, Red… don't stop, don't stop tonight, please… maybe I should say something first, I don't want to – oh_ fuck _– upset him…_

" _Red, please,"_

" _Are you all right?"_ It was strange to be looking up at himself from this position. God, Red thought to himself, he looked so young. _"Did I do something wrong? Is this too much?"_

_Damnit, Red… I wish you'd let it go. I don't want you to feel like that when you're touching me. I hate seeing you so scared._ " _The opposite, actually." This is so awkward… "I just… I wanted to tell you, I mean, I don't wanna scare you but I want you to know… I'm ready. For real, with you." That couldn't have been less eloquent if you_ tried, _Pur._

Red almost smiled, hearing Purple's self-admonishing inner voice. Through his partner's eyes he watched himself in the memory tense. He hadn't pulled away but the anxiety radiating from him was palpable.

" _I didn't mean to upset you, I just thought you should know. I want to do this right, I want it to be right for_ both _of us. I love you so much, you know that, don't you?" Please say yes._

" _I know. I love you, too; I'm just not ready. I don't want to push you into anything ever again, like I did the last time. I just can't… I don't want… I can't lose you."_

_You're so fucking beautiful, Red, how'd you ever end up with someone like me? You deserve better than this. The only reason you're not comfortable is because of what I did. I wonder if you'll ever realize that it wasn't your fault. I don't know why you love me. I took the last thing we had and I broke it. I love you so much. I wish you could feel it, sometimes… then maybe you'd see how incredible you are. If you could just feel the things you make me feel… yeah, right._

He felt the mattress shift and the weight of his younger self, in the memory, lifting off of him. Purple's arm reached out instinctively, grabbing the other's wrist with a desperation Red's consciousness hadn't expected. _"Don't go." Please don't make me sleep alone._

" _I wasn't planning on it."_ He replied, _"Are you,"_

" _Stop asking if I'm all right, Red." You_ always _ask that fucking question and you never care about how_ you _are. "Are_ you _all right?"_

" _You know me, Pur."_ Red watched himself respond casually, _"I'm always all right."_

He felt a quick surge of anger pulse through Purple. He hadn't expected _that,_ either. Red was beginning to realize that even though he knew his partner very well, he still had yet to understand him. _Don't try and bullshit me, you liar, I know 'all right' is your stupid way of saying 'unsettled and/or terrified'. "Why are you so afraid to tell me that you're scared of something?"_

" _What are you talking about?"_

Purple sighed, frustrated and despairing. _"Sometimes, you make me feel like I'm just bashing my head into a brick wall. It takes so much effort to be your friend because you won't_ tell _me anything unless I force it out of you, and I know you shouldn't have to share_ everything _, but you suck at hiding it and it makes me hurt to see you in pain, and I feel useless because I_ could _do something to help but you don't let me. I want to be your… I don't know, whatever we are,"_

" _Lover?"_

Purple cringed, _"That word just sounds so tacky."_

Red watched himself shrug.

" _It doesn't matter, because you don't trust me."_

"Of course _I trust you!"_ Red had replied with force behind his words.

" _But you don't believe me."_

" _You're not making sense!"_

" _The first thing you do is assume that you're to blame, no matter the situation, even if I tell you that you aren't. Everything was going fine before I said I was ready to take things a step further. I told you, and I can guarantee that one of your first thoughts was 'he's lying because he can tell I want it, too'. You don't have to be embarrassed or anything, just be_ honest _." Well, at least_ that's _out in the open. He's been dying to do this as long as I have, and the only reason I waited until now was to see if he'd say something first. I've been completely sure about this for a month now. It doesn't get much surer._

"… _I'm afraid I'll hurt you again."_

Purple's features softened and the anger drained out of him, leaving nothing but warmth and love. _"Come here,"_ he said, opening his arms and embracing the other Irken, _"I know you won't hurt me."_

" _How's that?"_ There was obvious skepticism in his tone.

" _Because you don't want to."_

" _And_ that's _enough of a reason to trust me?"_

" _Yes. And I'm okay if you want to wait. I just want you to be honest about why."_

" _You'd really keep waiting for me?"_

" _However long you needed."_

" _Even if it took another year?"_

" _Even if it took another_ hundred _years."_

" _Two hundred?"_

" _No. 142 ¾ is the tipping point, in my opinion."_

Red genuinely smiled and gave a short laugh, withdrawing from the hug to look at the other Irken.

He still wasn't accustomed to seeing himself from a third-party point of view, so it was only natural that he would be unfamiliar with his own facial expressions, but this one really took him by surprise. He must have looked like this when they were kids, when they used to wrestle in the Academy halls, or they'd watch vids together (or he would be watching Purple sleep while they pretended to watch vids together)… it was overwhelming. There weren't any words for it.

" _Have I told you how fucking beautiful you are?"_ Purple asked, consumed by the same emotion he saw reflected in the other's eyes. Being inside Purple's mind was almost too much for Red to stand. The way he felt things… the red-eyed Irken almost felt deprived, having only experienced emotion this way a few times before. He knew he felt just as much and just as deeply, but Purple had no fear of feeling everything all at once. Red always needed everything to make sense. He needed organization. Purple… he loved the impossible with reckless abandon.

He still couldn't get used to the idea of kissing _himself_ , and was slightly taken back when the image of his younger self had done so. It wasn't a hard kiss, but there was complete certainty in it. It was the kind of kiss that sucked the air right out of your lungs and made you forget how to breathe and left you dizzy. _"You're still the prettiest Irken I've ever met."_ He whispered to Purple in a low voice.

Purple's stomach fluttered in a way that wasn't the least bit unpleasant as Red encouraged him to lie back down. _"Don't tease me like that tonight, Red. Not if you don't mean it."_

" _Who said I don't mean it?"_ His face was serious. _"I want you to tell me if anything starts to make you uncomfortable."_

" _I promise." I really, honestly promise. I don't want to just have sex with you. I want this to be the real thing. I want you to understand the difference between sex and love, and I want you to know how much I love you._

"… _Are you sure you don't want to be on top?"_

Purple could sense Red's embarrassment and gave a small, warm smile, wrapping his arms around the other Irken's neck. _"Yes. I want you to know how completely I trust you. It's important." If you don't now, you'll never get over it. We'll always be stuck. I want this to replace our mistake. I want this to be what we look back on and smile about._

' _End playback. Terminate program.'_

Disorientation was beginning to feel familiar as Red opened his eyes and adjusted to the familiarity of their quarters. His face felt cold – so he _had_ cried, after all. He wasn't really surprised. He deserved it though, after making Purple endure everything over again.

"You all right?"

Red smiled, "You want the answer in standard terminology or Red-speak?"

Purple returned the expression, "I'm fluent in both."

"I'm great, Baby. I'm honestly, completely, no-bullshit great."

"Glad to hear it. Would you like to accompany me to the mess hall? Maybe see what extraordinary and exotic cuisine is on the menu for this evening?"

"How could I resist?" He joked, "By 'exotic' you mean 'of uncertain and possibly shady origin', right?"

"Of course. What, you think _I'm_ gonna start cooking you dinner?"

"Well you _are_ the wife, after all." Red reminded slyly.

"I'm _not_ cleaning the house, either."

"You're a _terrible_ wife! You don't cook, you don't clean, what'd I marry you for?"

"I'll remind you after dinner." He responded with a wink.

Red pulled his mate close, "You're bad." He said, punctuating the sentence with a kiss.

"And you love it."

"I do."

"At this rate, we're going to be burning calories before we consume them." Purple warned.

"I don't have a problem with that."

"Come on, Baby, I'm _really_ hungry. Let's get dinner first and we'll take the night off. How does that sound?"

"Like a very good idea. Knew I married you for a reason."

"Will you drop the 'wife' thing?"

* * *

" _How'd it ever come to_ this _?_ "

The question echoed in Skoodge's head like a skipping record as he lay on the floor, motionless. _"How did I get here?"_ He asked himself, _"How did things turn out this way?"_

He did not question the authenticity of the message. Oh, he certainly wanted to, but Skooge had stopped lying to himself a long time ago. He'd hoped that things would be different for him with the new Tallest, that it would be a fresh start. He had not wanted _this_.

Much like Zim, Skoodge was still consumed with shock and could only process the content of the message as words. He understood it conceptually, but those concepts felt hazy and unreal. All that _pain_ … Skoodge felt the strange, sharp sting of tears welling behind his eyes and he struggled to will them away. He didn't know _how_ to feel. On one hand, he felt ashamed for having ever been relieved to hear of his former leader's passing. No, they had never been especially close, but Zim was right; they had all grown up together. He'd never bothered to ask himself why the two of them were so close; he'd only felt rejected and ignored. Knowing now what he did, he looked back on his memories of their youth and he wondered why the thought hadn't occurred to him. Maybe because it was such an off-limits subject it seemed ridiculous to even pose the hypothetical scenario. He didn't know. It didn't matter.

On the other hand, they had _still_ done terrible things. And yet, they felt remorse. They _felt_ , period. He wanted to hold them responsible, he wanted to be angry… but he knew that Irkens had a self-destruct button for a reason. Every creature in the universe had its breaking point. Stockholm Syndrome was only unique to Earth in name. The Gaff called it the "Yeshrah Effect". It was known as "Drhau's Disorder" to the Arrosaraxians. The people of the Scarlet Junction had simply called it "Identity Death". It went by different names to different races, but the definition always remained the same. Skoodge wondered how long he would have been able to survive under the conditions Red and Purple had endured. As resilient and resourceful as he was, Skoodge did not think he would have lasted a fraction of the time his former leaders had managed to keep something close to their right minds intact.

And what for? Skooge had no problem fighting in the name of his beliefs, and it made him sick to think that they'd been completely unsubstantiated. He'd never asked why, never even _thought_ to ask why he was given an order. He believed blindly and look where that had brought him.

" _How'd it ever come to_ this _?"_ He asked himself again. All the pain and destruction and the lies… he almost felt as if something new and long forgotten were awakening within him as he had read through the message the first time.

Here he was – the model Irken, Invader Skooge – pathetically loyal, painfully gullible, and tragically eager. He'd finally gotten the recognition he'd so desperately desired his whole life, and it had earned him a one-way ticket into exile.

Sweet, sweet irony.

He wanted to scream, but he could not bring himself to make a sound. All he could do was lie there with tears in his eyes too stubborn to fall, cutting himself on the sharp, shattered memories of what used to be his life.

* * *

Lard Nar fought against returning to wakefulness, but the sharp pain in his head came roaring back to life with fresh enthusiasm to remind him that it felt neglected at current. Normal people _slept off_ headaches. Lard Nar's headaches always kept him awake, and the longer he tried to rest them out, the worse they always seemed to become. He supposed his breakdown of sorts had something to do with the headache's triumphant return.

"Here, this should help." Spleenk was at the ready, holding out two capsules and a glass of water. "When was the last time you ate?"

Thought was not something that the Captain was able to accomplish with any degree of success at the moment. Everything was blurred around the edges from the pain in his head, and Spleenk had definitely made him aware of how hungry he was.

"I figured as much. Those pills should kick in pretty fast, but you need to eat something. Will you be all right if I run to the mess hall and grab something for you?"

"Only if you get something for yourself, too." He managed weakly, "Not allowed to take care of me unless you take care of yourself."

Spleenk smiled warmly. "It's a deal. I'll lock the door so nobody will bother you while I'm gone. I won't be long, I promise."

"Thanks." He would have liked to show more enthusiasm and gratitude, but the headache was making it difficult to stay conscious.

"Try to relax, I'll be back soon." Spleenk seemed to understand, and departed from his quarters. He locked the door behind him, walked down the hallway, and ran into Red and Purple halfway to his destination.

"You're just in time for the dinner rotation." The red-eyed Irken said, "The first shift of refugees was just herded in for mealtime. We luckily just missed it."

"He means they shoved us out before dessert." Purple explained.

"You know if they'd had donuts, you would have blown our cover to take the inventory for yourself."

Purple tried to look offended, "Well, I certainly wouldn't share them _now_."

"I meant to come by and see how the both of you were holding up." Spleenk said, "I was really worried."

"We're good, Spleenk." Red replied with a smile, "The whole thing gave me a chance to get inside Purple's head, and understand a lot about our relationship from his point of view."

Purple just smiled knowingly at the other, as if they shared a secret. Spleenk was visibly relieved at Red's answer, "I'm glad. 'Nar… he's not himself right now. I think it's going to be a long time before he is. But I don't think he wanted to hurt you for no reason like that."

"I know he didn't." Red sighed. "He's entitled to make mistakes every once in a while. I've made plenty of my own."

Spleenk hugged the Irken unexpectedly, despite only standing a little taller than his knees. Red looked at Purple, who could think of no explanation, and shrugged.

"…How are _you_ taking things, Spleenk?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to – I shouldn't have invaded your space like that, it's rude,"

"Calm down, I just meant that I just meant to say that you seem pretty run-down."

Spleenk sighed and his whole body seemed to slacken. "Ugh, everything's a mess."

"Maybe you should take a break, yourself." Purple suggested with a worried expression.

"I'm trying. I'm just going to grab something quick to go and head back to my room. I don't like the thought of leaving him alone for long by himself. The Captain."

Purple shrank instinctually and Red's heart started beating a little faster than usual in response. Red glanced at former co-leader and lifted his chin to achieve eye contact.

"Hey, you. None of that." He smiled. "Not anymore. I forgive you."

The sincerity in his partner's voice was reflected on his face, and Purple was so overwhelmed for a moment that all he could do was smile stupidly until he was sure that he could string together a semi-coherent sentence in his head. There were no words, though, to communicate the incredible degree of relief and thankfulness he felt so he did the only thing he could. He impulsively threw his arms around the red-eyed Irken and held onto him tightly.

Red hadn't expected the sudden gesture, and he gave a short laugh once he'd settled in to them embrace. "Looks like it's 'free hugs for me' day." He commented.

Purple laughed, despite the tears running down his cheeks. He released Red from his grip and wiped them away, still smiling, "Honey, you're getting so much _more_ than a free hug when we get back to the room."

"Now _that_ sounds promising." Red replied in a seductive done. "Spleenk, if you need anything, we'll be,"

"Screwing each other completely senseless, I know." Spleenk said, cutting off the tall, red-eyed Irken with a small smile, "I'll only interrupt if it's absolutely life-threatening."

"Thanks. Now, if you'll excuse us, Red and I have some very important private matters to attend to." Purple explained with a wink.

"By all means." Spleenk replied, "Don't let me keep you."

They walked off in separate directions and Spleenk once again headed for the mess hall. He'd just about gotten there when he felt shock grip him completely for a moment. Normally, he'd fill with dread and anxiety and start panicking once the shock wore off. This time, in the place usually filled by fear and panic, Spleenk could feel only anger. The terrible kind of anger that seized your entire form and could only be expelled through violence. Spleenk was not a generally angry or violent person, but he supposed that just this once, he could make an exception. He approached the wandering refugee and shoved him against the wall roughly.

"What part of ' _stay in the cargo area'_ did you not understand?!"

"It's mealtime. I don't _have_ to be in the cargo area." He replied in a saccharine-sweet voice.

Spleenk's reply was a fist to the purple-skinned Vortian's face.

"…What the fuck'd you do _that_ for?!" He shouted, wiping the blood from his split lower lip.

"Why does anyone do _anything_ , really?" Spleenk mused, still clearly seething, "I mean, if I do _this_ ," he said, striking the Vortian again, "it's because you're a selfish piece of shit who needs to learn his place in the world, because it doesn't revolve around him. Because you're the kind of scum that finds good people and exploits their weaknesses for your own gain, and once you've grown bored you up and leave with a sorry excuse. Because you're a creature that _can't_ love; all you can do is _use_. Then again," Spleenk thought out loud, "maybe I just want to hit you." The four-armed alien demonstrated this with a blow to the stomach.

"Maybe, it's because I'm not fond of being lied to." A solid fist once again made powerful contact with the refugee's stomach, "Maybe, I don't like people who hurt my friends." Ribs cracked, "Or, maybe I'm just having a really bad day." Spleenk's fist became fast friends with the Vortian's nose, which immediately started bleeding.

"Fuck! What the _fuck_ is wrong with you, Psycho? So what, I wanted some time alone with 'Nar, big fucking deal."

Spleenk laughed darkly, "Now _that's_ an ironic choice of words."

The Vortian refugee looked confused and terrified, "What?"

"How do live with yourself, is what I want to know. How can you stand there and actually defend yourself, like you _didn't_ just ruin somebody's life to get what you wanted? How do you _not_ see a problem with that?!"

"I should've known better, fuck, I _knew_ it wouldn't be worth the mess." He muttered to himself.

"And it's _still_ about _you!_ " Spleenk cried incredulously, "Do you even _care_ about what you did to him? About how he feels?!"

The Vortian smirked, "I'm pretty sure what I did to him felt great. He certainly screamed like it did."

Spleenk dealt him another blow to the face. He staggered, holding a hand over his eye, laughing, "So _that's_ what this is about. You're pissed off because I fucked your little crush. Oh my god, that's so cute."

Spleenk wondered if he'd still think so after another punch. Well, there was only one way to find out.

The purple-skinned creature wobbled on his feet and breathed heavily, "You _deserve_ each other. Out of your _fucking_ minds."

Spleenk abandoned the notion of restraint and took the other to the ground, pummeling him with fists until he was finally pulled away by various members of the crew and staff. The Vortian was a complete mess, but he was still alive.

"What the fuck happened, Spleenk?!" One of the guards who'd pulled the aforementioned alien away asked.

Spleenk had the advantage of a full mouth of teeth, and lips that were not bleeding or swollen. "I warned him to stay in the designated refugee areas three times. Things escalated, and I had to defend myself." Inwardly, Spleenk could hear his mother lecturing him. He felt immediate disappointment with himself, and the feeling grew exponentially when he looked at his scraped knuckles. It hadn't been his place to get involved. What had transpired between the two Vortians was their business, and not his. He said the words in his head, but he didn't mean them. No matter what, he was still Lard Nar's friend, and his friend had been hurt. It still didn't give him the right to violently harass the refugee. They had all seen enough violence for a lifetime, and he knew that there was so much more to come. It made no sense to add another incident to the grand total. Violence had been what sparked this entire situation.

It wasn't violence in the traditional sense, the way it had manifested in Spleenk, but it had been the destructive intention by which #777 had gone about taking advantage of Lard Nar. An eye for an eye made the universe a kingdom of the blind.

Maybe he was wrong to lash out like that. Spleenk _almost_ felt bad that he didn't care.

He didn't know what he'd say to Lard Nar about it. Maybe once he'd eaten something, Spleenk would be able to clear his head. He was exhausted and stressed well beyond his breaking point and he needed time to rest. Spleenk instructed the security guard to keep the purple-skinned Vortian under constant supervision until they landed, just to make sure he didn't wander off on his own (or try to attack either Spleenk or Lard Nar). He took a deep breath, and left the situation behind him.

 

* * *

**Allusions & Refrences**

**Iron Maiden's** _ **The Trooper**_ , as explained, is Iron Maiden's _The Trooper_ (my favorite Maiden song).

The piece of **classical music with a cannon** refers to Tchaikovsky's _1812 Overture_

**Neural relay communicator** and **ThoughtMail** are from the Series 4 _Doctor Who_ episode(s) _Silence in the Library_ and _Forest of the Dead_

The **rabbit-hole** is from Lewis Carol's _Alice in Wonderland._

**NoRecall** is a small reference to the short-term-memory erasing drug, Retcon, used in _Torchwood_ (which is a reference to "retroactive continuity", the term for when the later writer of a series, most notably in comic books, changes the history of a character or a story)

Lard Nar's exclamation, **"we're all mad here"** is another, very blatant, reference to _Alice in Wonderland_.

The line **destruction just another form of creation** is from Chuck Palahniuk's _Fight Club_

Red's quip to Purple, claiming, _**"I've had all my shots"** _ is a line from Animaniacs.

**Notes**

I have a friend who figured out how to play the Iron Maiden riff with his cell phone keypad.

Even in my original character sketches, it was determined that Red sings badly in the shower.

As far as the morality of the Tak issue is concerned, even _I_ don't know which side I'd advocate. I do believe that a slave is a slave, even if he doesn't know it. Then I contemplate the cave allegory and I kinda cringe. I mean, if you grow up chained inside an underground cave and all you've ever seen are shadows on a wall, just because somebody ran away for a while doesn't mean that they weren't driven mad by their experience outside, and that their idea of "liberating" you isn't actually a trap of some kind. Plato's theory was that if you go about enlightening folk that way, they'll violently and horrifically rip you apart like a pack of angry, starving wolves. And stuff.

Tenn's inability to remain comfortable in one position for too long is something I do. I always end up hanging upside-down.

I'm scared shitless of heights. Therefore, Purple shares my fear.

10's already started. You'll be learning quite a bit more about _Their_ origins and motivations. I'm quite excited to be writing it.

**As always, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for the reviews and comments. They're so helpful and inspiring. I mean it, especially to those of you who consistently offer your insights. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** This chapter kinda functions as a lead-in to the next, which is a major turning point. I wanted to post them together, but I figured it'd be nicer to the readers if I posted each on completion. I say it every chapter, but you guys are what make this worth it. Without your encouragement, I'd have abandoned this a year ago. Much love and thanks, as always.

Enjoy!

**\- 10 -**

"Ladies, gentlemen, and all variations thereof, we have reached our destination; once we receive clearance and docking instructions, we will finally be landing on Malterra. At this time, we ask that you please keep your hands, arms, legs, antennas, and any other body part you do not wish to lose inside the spacecraft at all times. Please direct any inquiries about our liability policy to Someone Who Gives A Shit. Again, please note that we are not responsible for your lack of intelligence. Thank you once again for flying _Resisty Spacelines_ , we hope you suffered only mild to moderate food poisoning." Red's pseudo-flight-attendant voice spoke through the ship's COM system.

"It worries me how much you like to make those announcements." Purple commented to his partner. "I'm starting to think maybe you missed your calling."

"Perhaps you're right… maybe I should contemplate a career change."

"Rebel freedom fighters are _so_ overrated these days. It's all about the image, I'm sure. It's all just sex appeal."

"Oh really?"

"Psshhh, you think I've been sleeping with you all this time because I genuinely _love you_ or something?"

"You sure as hell aren't in it for the money." Red replied in mock-seriousness.

Purple gave a short, amused laugh. "See; at least you can take comfort in knowing I'm not a gold-digger."

"So then, what happens when we win this thing and I'm just a normal guy again?"

Purple looked at his partner with an honest smile, "I'll still love you."

It was the little moments like this that kept Red believing that things would somehow, against all logic, be all right.

A yellow light flashed on the communications panel, indicating that someone was trying to reach him through the vid-com. Red sighed and pressed the button, "Communications. What's up?"

"Hey, Red. Sally wants to know if you got a minute." The three-headed translator said, appearing onscreen.

"Sure, Urr. What does she need?"

Sally explained in her native tongue the nature of the problem, and Red just waited, nodding dumbly until it was translated.

"Okay… she says that she was going through the computer logs from the mission on Vort, you know, when we thought we screwed something up?"

Red nodded, "I remember the sense of panic and urgency quite sufficiently, thanks."

"Okay, just checking. Anyway, so she was checking the log files and turns out, _we_ weren't the ones who screwed up."

Both Red and Purple were interested and extremely confused. "But, how,"

"She's sending you the data now. All the important stuff is highlighted. There wasn't time to see it before, she said."

Red's eyes widened as they scanned the highlighted information, while Purple's just looked more confused. This was _way_ over his head and he wasn't even going to try to pretend he had the slightest grasp of what he was looking at.

"That's… but according to this, the protocol could only have been activated _manually_. It wasn't a real security protocol, it's not even coded like one. It was just hidden in the defaults. That much makes sense, I mean, at a maximum-security prison like that, nobody's getting _near_ those files. I…" Red looked closer at the screen, "I cannot _believe_ how anti-climactic this is." He said, his voice falling flat. "Are you seeing what I am?"

Sally and her assistant nodded.

"…I'm not." Purple admitted.

"Okay, so basically, that protocol was hidden really deep in system defaults so nobody would screw with it. It's especially sensitive, because it's built to override all other basic security processes. Sally got past the encryption I was complaining about, and there's _nothing_ automatic about the process. It _has_ _to_ be activated manually, which was how they solved the problem of the conflicting commands."

"So why'd it go off?"

"That the ridiculous part. It went off because they tried to pass it off as a security protocol and set it as the priority response."

"That doesn't sound like _Them_." Purple frowned.

"There have been a lot of problems with security in Vort prisons. It was pretty recently that they did a complete work-over with those Ker-Splodey systems, right? It's a bit of a leap, but the hired tech might've assumed since it was called _Security Protocol 1_ , it was the automatic default. _They're_ not that stupid, but without breaking the encryption, nobody would notice that there was anything different about it."

"And they did that so security personnel and tech support wouldn't be suspicious?"

"I can't think of another reason."

"I'm still confused. How does this mean it's not our fault?"

"The next time that system went offline for even routine maintenance, it would have blown. It wasn't _supposed_ to be a security protocol, but the computer thought it was."

"So what you're saying is that it had two conflicting sets of parameters?"

"Exactly." Red answered.

"Well, that takes care of the how and what, but not the why."

"Honey, when has _anything_ those lunatics have ever done made any sort of rational sense?"

"That's the thing, though. _They_ seem random and senseless, but we know that's not true. They're systematic. Methodical. Everything _they_ do has an order. I just can't see it. You get what I'm saying? Why did that protocol exist in the first place? It wasn't protecting anything, that's for sure. Maybe understanding the motives behind the smaller plans will help us figure out what _They're_ really aiming for."

Red nodded. "It's worth a shot, since it's the only approach we have so far. I'll be damned if I can figure out how the fuck _They_ think."

Purple rolled his partner's words around carefully in his head. They'd triggered _something_ – a gut instinct, an intuition, the beginnings of a suggestion he didn't yet have words for. He and Red had struggled for years trying to discern _their_ motives, and failed each time. It was hard enough for the two of them to understand _each other_ ; understanding a perverse, violent group with their own equally perverse moral code wasn't something they had the particular skill set to deal with. They had empirical data from observation and experience. Purple had a great degree of empathy, however, he did not have the objectiveness required to do something as advanced as compile a psychological evaluation.

Revelation washed over Purple slowly. "Spleenk. We need Spleenk. Get him on the vid-com."

"Wha,"

"Trust me."

Red nodded, still clueless as to why his partner suddenly needed to speak with Spleenk, but he trusted him, so he went ahead and hailed the vid-com.

The alien looked considerably more tired since they'd last run into him, and sported a cut over his eye. "What's up?"

"Hey, Spleenk… what happened to your eye? You look terrible, you should really sleep or something."

"I'm fine. Well, no… I'm not fine, really, not remotely _close_ to fine, but it's nothing, really, I'll be all right – I'm _always_ all right,"

"You sound like me." Red interjected with a sad smile, "I'm not of the last time I really meant it, though."

"What happened?" Purple asked, in regard to the gash above Spleenk's eye, "Do I need to pummel someone? It's been a while since I've given anyone a good pummeling."

Spleenk just sighed. "Funny you should put it like that. I'm fairly sure I did quite satisfactory on my own." The four-armed alien's hands flinched slightly, as he pulled his arms around himself, obscuring his fists from view. He wasn't quick enough to prevent the two Irkens from seeing the damage.

"…I don't suppose you've had those looked at?"

"Huh?"

"Your hands." Red clarified.

"They'll get infected." Purple reminded.

"I don't care. We're heading to a hospital anyway."

"You don't have tell us, but out of curiosity, who _exactly_ did you pummel? If it's who I'm thinking, I'm declaring you my personal hero for the day." Purple inquired.

"Who are you thinking?"

"There's a certain Vortian I'd like to see get what he deserves."

"You'd be right."

"…You're _so_ my hero."

"Thanks, Spleenk," Red commented, "how the hell am I gonna compete with _that_?"

Spleenk gave a tiny, but genuine smile. "Oh, Red, I'm sure you'll think of _something_."

Red grinned salaciously at his partner. "Fair enough."

"So, we called you for a reason, believe it or not." Purple reminded, steering their conversation back on track, "You seem to have a knack for understanding people that goes way beyond what Red and I are capable of, and you're very good at making evaluations without bias. Neither of us can really do that in this case. You're the only one who can see the pieces objectively and put them together."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I know it's a lot to ask, but do you think you could… I don't know, analyze _Them_ or something?" Purple asked.

Spleenk gave a strange, knowing smile and a nod, "You want me to do a psychological profile."

"Well, yes. Essentially."

"I'm out of practice. I haven't done a proper profile in at least five years."

"Wait – you've done this sort of thing before?" Red asked.

"I did have a day job once."

"So… you're… are you okay with this?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll see what I do. I may need the two of you to answer a few questions, I mean, I've got a pretty good sense of the kind of people they are, but, well, it's like they say, _the devil's in the details_ … I'll get started on this right away."

"You don't have to do it _now,_ Spleenk." Purple said, "I just wanted to ask you, before I forgot. Red figured out the mechanical reason why the prisons exploded, but I don't understand the reason something like that would be necessary."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I figured that out already."

"…What?"

"Yeah. Well, think about it. If they wrote that protocol deliberately, which you can't argue, they intended to use it. They had the layout for the fusion reactors planned out perfectly. A design like that isn't a coincidence. They were going to destroy Vort at some point, no matter what. I'm not sure why… but they sure went through a hell of a lot of work to keep it a secret."

"Weapons?"

"I can't say. They've got a tendency to hide the truth. They've kept their _existence_ a secret by creating a puppet government. The weapons were undoubtedly a plus, I'm sure, but it seems entirely too obvious."

"Good point." Purple replied, "I think you should come to the rendezvous meeting when we land, with the other resistance leaders. It'd be nice to have someone credible to explain this stuff."

Spleenk nodded. "All right. I'll see you when we land. Oh, um, would you mind if we pushed the meeting back a few hours? I wanna give 'Nar a little more time to rest."

Red nodded. "Will do, Spleenk. Take it easy."

"You too." He replied, closing the com channel.

"He's right, you know." A sleepy voice said, "You look exhausted."

"I'll be fine, 'Nar." Spleenk replied, addressing the half-conscious Vortian. "Go back to sleep."

"You beat him up for me, didn't you?"

Spleenk sighed.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"You can tell me _anything_."

"I'm glad."

"Glad you can tell me anything or glad that I beat up your ex?"

Lard Nar gave a tired laugh, "Both."

Spleenk smiled.

"Please, rest, Spleenk."

"I would, but I seem to have a Vortian in my bed."

The aforementioned Vortian moved toward the wall to make space beside him, "We can pretend we're normal for a while."

Spleenk sighed and conceded, making himself comfortable next to the Vortian. Consciousness surrendered itself quickly and they held each other in sleep, and for a few precious moments, they were normal.

* * *

The ship arrived on Malterra without incident. Lard Nar was by no means in great shape, but the respite had given him just enough energy to make it through the meeting.

He'd been very hesitant with Red and Purple, unable to look either of them in the eye. There hadn't been time to talk it out, but Spleenk had explained to the Captain that the Irkens had dealt with the matter on their own, and that they did not hold a grudge against him. The Vortian had been slightly nervous and twitchy at first. He kept thinking back to the conversation he'd had with Purple after he'd come to the Irkens's quarters for help and he could not help but feel nothing shy of despicable. He remembered how horrified he was to hear Purple explain how he considered it an act of penance to quietly suffer instead of stopping his partner. Purple had done it out of love, he said, to atone for all the pain he'd forced on Red like a bizarre kind of reciprocity. Even to suggest that they'd suffered those things for nothing but an empty lie was a terrible, unforgivable thing.

He and Spleenk had wandered onto the bridge idly, casually heading toward the communications panel and two very tall Irkens.

" _I can't wait to be planet-side again."_ Red had sighed.

" _Planet-side? Honey, we're going to the equivalent of a hospital the size of a planet."_ Purple countered.

" _I don't know, it could turn out to be quite a good time."_

Purple gave him a glance that seem to ask if he'd gone mad, _"What? How do you have a good time at a hospital?"_

Red grinned evilly, speaking in a low, sultry voice just loud enough for Lard Nar to hear, _"Tell you what, Baby,"_ he said, _"I'll let you play 'doctor' and we'll find out."_

The Vortian and Purple cringed.

" _Red, Dear, I find myself in awe of how lame that was."_

Red sighed dramatically before changing his focus. _"Hey, 'Nar, you feeling any better?"_

The Captain was surprised that Red had addressed him directly and fumbled for a response, _"Y-yeah… I mean, I could use some more rest, but I suppose I'll be able to get that while we're here."_

" _Glad to hear it."_ Red replied.

" _About what I said,"_

" _Don't, 'Nar."_ Red interrupted, holding his hand up as a visual command. _"We forgive you. It… it ended up being a pretty big help."_

Lard Nar looked confused, but he nodded anyway.

" _We've got that rendezvous meeting in twenty minutes or so."_ Purple reminded, _"We ought to make a list of talking points so we stay on track this time."_

Having an agenda _did_ make him somewhat more comfortable as he sat, waiting for the room full of tired aliens to quiet.

"First of all," he began, calling the meeting to order, "I want to thank all of you for your parts in our recent operation on Vort. Though we encountered some… unexpected events, we can consider it a success." It pained him to say, but the Captain knew it was the truth.

"We destroyed an entire _planet_." The leader of the _Sequax_ commented, "How can we call _that_ successful?"

"For starters, everyone made it out alive. We accomplished exactly what we set out to do. That planet was my _home_ , G'hahn. Don't think its absence has gone unnoticed."

" _We_ weren't the ones responsible for what happened to Vort." Purple explained.

"Wait – wait a minute. We _didn't_ blow it up?" Som Saa asked, "Then who did?"

" _They_ did." Red answered. "After analyzing the computer log of everything that happened, and with a little help from Spleenk, Sally and I were able to figure out what went wrong." He paused to ensure that everyone was still following, "The lockdown happened in the first place because Security Protocol 1 got activated. Turns out, it's not a security protocol. Well, in _Their_ twisted way that's how _They_ might see it. It was an override that could only be activated manually, by someone who knew the encryption. When they installed the program, they hid it within the security defaults where it wouldn't look suspicious. It was supposed to be bypassed, since it's encrypted. Somebody reset the parameters, the computer got confused, and force-ran it."

"So, basically, there's a tech support guy out there responsible for the destruction of an entire world… and he doesn't know it?"

Red thought for a moment, "Yeah, basically."

Shloonktapooxis cringed, "Sucks to be _him_!"

"Well said, Shloonktapooxis." Purple commented with a small smile, "Short, tactless, and straight to the point. I knew I liked you for a reason."

Shloonktapooxis grinned "Thanks, man!"

"There's a brief list of things I want to discuss before we all take temporary leave." Lard Nar said. "The first matter concerns the refugees. We've got a whole lot of displaced people to deal with. We'll take on anyone who wants to join up, but I'm sure a lot of them are going to be looking for friends and family. We'll organize transports to the nearest space station for anyone who wishes to go their own way. Does that sound acceptable to everyone?"

No one offered a counter-argument, so Lard Nar proceeded. "Good. Second, the _Nescio_ 's actions were completely out of line during our last mission. I've got half a mind to charge her crew with insubordination!"

"Red isn't my superior officer!" The captain of the offending ship replied.

"No, but _I_ am your Commanding Officer and _I_ gave you specific instruction to follow the coordinates he sent you."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were starting to sound like an _Irken_ , Boss."

"Don't pull this bullshit with me, Wilelel. You've got a problem with something – that's fine – but don't try and pin your screw-ups on me."

"You recklessly endangered the lives of your entire crew, innocent civilians, and jeopardized the mission." Red added. "And if you make one more offhanded comment about what a horrible person I am, I'll give you a firsthand demonstration."

"You were wrong. I don't care if you don't like your orders. If we've all agreed on a course of action you have no moral objections to, you'll follow them." Lard Nar finished and breathed a deep sigh. "Number three… we've got Spleenk compiling a psychological profile of the enemy. We know next to nothing about them, so we have to focus on what we _do_ know, and expand from there. If he can figure out what's motivating them, maybe we can use it against them. Information is power, and right now, they've got the advantage. We need to level that playing field. Everyone okay with that?"

Lard Nar was grateful that there was no opposition. "While we're here, we're going to be doing as much research as we can – I know you're all tired of stumbling around blindly in this, and so am I. I'm sending the word out to our scouts and seeking out everything I can get from our sources. One last thing before we all go," he said, "we picked up a distress beacon from a stranded Irken vessel… we believe it was deliberately sabotaged. The pilot was in cryo at the time, so we decided to take her on board. Whether or not she'll be an asset to us is yet to be seen, however, I felt it was only appropriate to tell you all… out of courtesy, if nothing else."

Everyone, save the four members of his crew who had been involved in the decision, looked about ready to start a riot.

"We've got a plan. She won't be able to cause us harm. We've got a worst-case scenario set up, just to be sure. Believe us, this was not an easy decision." Spleenk explained, "Leaving her to die would have been cruel, and made us no better than the enemy. Nobody is happy about this, but who knows. They wanted her gone for a reason, right? Maybe if we can convince her to stay on our side, she could help us figure out why they wanted her dead."

"It's been a long, _long_ trip and I really don't think any of us can bear any more arguing." Red added, his exhaustion becoming obvious.

"I think I'll go mad if people start yelling again. Any more noise will just drive me over the edge completely." Purple responded, clenching and unclenching his fist nervously.

"We didn't have a real happy ride here." Shloonktapooxis contributed, watching the angry faces slowly give way to worry laced with fear.

" _That's_ the understatement of the century." Spleenk sighed.

Lard Nar took a deep breath, "So, if there's nothing left to discuss, we'll reconvene in three days. Until then, rest up – but keep your com channels open at all times. We're adjourned."

The five shipmates held their breath for a moment, and watched the room's occupants collect their belongings and filter out the door without a word in their direction. They simultaneously exhaled with grateful expressions, incredibly relieved to have successfully avoided another argument. They all seemed to slouch at the same time; Red leaning forward with his elbows on the desk, holding his face in his hands; Purple, reclining in his chair, lolling his head over the back of the headrest. Lard Nar propped his head up with an elbow on his armrest, the other arm lazily falling at his side. Shloonktapooxis slumped in his seat while Spleenk's head just fell onto the two arms he'd crossed on the tabletop.

"I am so glad that's over." Lard Nar said, sounding more relieved than the group had ever heard him.

"Me too. I couldn't take any more _noise_ …." Purple complained.

"I can't stand the screaming." Red groaned.

"Anyone who walks by your bunk would argue otherwise." Came Spleenk's somewhat muffled reply.

"I'm too relaxed to even be bothered." Lard Nar commented.

"Hey, don't lecture me." Red responded, still slow and somewhat tired. "I'm capable of managing the volume of my voice, thank you very much."

Purple simply sighed, "I suppose we could just _not_ have sex."

"Hallelujah." Lard Nar laughed tiredly.

"You wouldn't hold out long." Red responded, ignoring Lard Nar.

"I'd hold out longer than _you_."

"Fair enough." Red admitted, "So that would be a temporary solution, at best."

"Why are you two still even on this topic?" Lard Nar asked.

"He just wants me to say something to reaffirm his masculinity." Purple answered.

"Thanks, Pur. Real nice."

Purple laughed a little, "Red, of all people, _you_ do not need a bigger ego."

"Maybe so," he grinned, "but that doesn't mean you can't stroke it for me."

Lard Nar gagged and Spleenk chuckled into the table.

"And now you can _forget_ about me stroking your ego, or any other part of you, for that matter."

"What if I return the favor?"

Purple finally raised his head and made eye contact, "Was that an offer?"

Red just offered a wide, seductive grin.

"Eh, maybe later." Purple shrugged, before resuming his earlier position.

"You suck, you know that?"

"No… no, I quite think this, right here, would be me _not_ sucking."

Lard Nar grumbled something along the lines of, "intolerable…"

"…If I wasn't so tired, I'd make you regret that."

"Says you."

"Before you two get _too_ comfortable, I'd remind you that the Doc's going to want to get started as soon as possible."

Red nodded soberly with a sigh, "I want to put a call in to Zim."

"…Maybe we should let him call us." Purple suggested. "I think it's more respectful that way. You know, so he knows it's on his terms."

Red sighed and conceded, "Never thought I'd care about respecting _Zim_."

"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly count on it, either."

A short moment of silence passed between the group, until Lard Nar spoke, "…I know it won't be convenient for the two of you, but I'll need you both to do a standard psych evaluation while you're here. Red, I haven't finished explaining yet, please don't cut me off."

The red-eyed Irken frowned, but reluctantly yielded.

"You've endured many things over the years, and you're here to repair the damage time has done. They won't fix everything, but you'll be able to keep yourselves balanced on your own two feet by the time you leave. I want to make sure you can both do that literally _and_ figuratively."

"If I refuse?"

"We'll do it." Purple replied, on the heels of his partner's question.

"Good." Lard Nar responded with a nod.

Shloonktapooxis sighed, "I think I'm gonna go check on Tenn… see if she's made any progress with that other lady yet."

The Captain nodded, "That's a good idea. Please, keep me updated on that situation. Spleenk,"

The four-armed alien shook himself alert at the sound of his name, "Yeah?"

"You need to get some sleep. Head over to the Medical Bay and have one of the doctors see to your hands. I'm going to escort Red and Purple to MedLab One to meet with their doctor. Is that okay by everybody."

No objections were made. The two Irkens exchanged a reaffirming glance, and got to their feet with the rest of their shipmates. Neither of them had a particular affection for being poked and prodded, and even less for medical procedures, but they knew that they wouldn't be able to sustain life in such a condition, if they were to remain untreated for much longer. Their limited mobility was a serious problem and it would catch up to them, both literally and figuratively, if they failed to address and treat it. It wasn't going to be comfortable, but it _was_ necessary. There was no guarantee that any of the treatments would give back all of what they had lost, but they had to try. If there was even the slightest hope that they might one day be able to sustain themselves without having to wear the armor ever again, it would be worth it.

* * *

Tenn sat at the edge of her chair. The doctors were on standby, of course, but it was unanimously agreed that their presence might prove too overwhelming for the unconscious Irken when she woke. Tenn had no interest in playing unfavorable odds (particularly when bodily injury was involved), so she did not complain. She was by no means _pleased_ with the situation, but she was a soldier and she had been given orders.

The female Irken sighed, swinging her feet that didn't quite reach the floor. Though the transition had been gradual, Tenn felt like the changes in her had occurred abruptly. So much internal change, and yet, she remained a soldier. It was what she'd always been. A military lifestyle left time for little else. She realized that now, as she sat with _nothing_ to do, wishing she'd picked up a hobby of some sort.

Without the uniform, what was she? When no one was there to direct her life or provide a goal for her, what did she want for herself? There was no shame in choosing the life of a soldier, she knew that, but she wondered if the choice had really been hers. She was very good at what she did, but was she doing it for the right reasons? Until now, she hadn't considered it. She hadn't believed in her objectives the same way in the past as she did now. She had been _convinced_ , yes, but she hadn't felt it. It had been reason without passion. She was still seeing the world around her with new eyes.

She wondered what Tak was thinking. Tenn honestly had no idea how the other Irken would react to everything. She really hoped fate wouldn't be so cruel as to have Tak get violent with her, and by random chance (and Tenn's current run of luck), strike her precisely in the location where she'd been stabbed. She supposed though, she couldn't really _complain_ about her run of luck, since she was still alive.

Stupid sword. Shloonktapooxis had put it in her room upon request, since she'd insisted on keeping it. Receptors or not, she was still stubborn and she was going to learn to fight with that damned thing and she'd do it damned well, out of spite, if nothing else. She'd never have the satisfaction of killing the Irken who'd stabbed her with his own sword, but after much contemplation, she decided that she'd settle for killing any number of _Them_ with it. Tenn had always been very agile and accurate, so with some strength training, she figured that she would fair decently in melee combat. True, it wasn't needlepoint, but it could still be considered a hobby.

Her focus immediately darted to the sedated Irken in the medical cot as she heard a soft groan. Tak twitched a few times, and appeared to be fighting her way into consciousness. Tenn felt briefly overcome with a sense of dread but she reassured herself internally and exhaled the feeling. She breathed even and steady until Tak's eyelids slowly began to open. She glanced around the room in confusion until her focus settled on Tenn. She opened her mouth and tried to form words, but after several tries, failed.

"It's okay… you're heavily sedated. It'll take a little while before you wake up enough to speak. We went to the Academy together when we were younger. I'm Tenn."

Tak gave her a blank stare for a brief moment, and then recognition sparked in her eyes. "…I remember… why am I so tired?" She asked.

"My crew and I found you floating in a cryo unit in your ship. Your system was sabotaged with a virus, as far as our tech analysts can tell. You survived because you used your SIR unit as a power source."

Tak appeared very confused. "Virus?"

"Yes."

Tak looked uncomfortable and her heart rate quickened on the monitor displaying her life signs.

"What's wrong, Tak?"

She stumbled for words, breathing erratically, "I – I don't know – this never – what's _happening_?"

Tenn gave a long exhale. "You need to relax. I know you're confused and a whole lot of other things you don't understand and haven't felt before, but you've got to keep yourself calm. I can't tell you anything until you're calm."

"Where are we?!"

Tenn folded her arms. "I said, you need to _calm down_.

"…Y-you're not supposed to be – you're assigned to Meekrob – how long have I been in cryo?!"

Tenn contemplated replying in a spooky voice with, _"a thousand_ _years…"_ but valued her life and decided against it. "You were only in cryo a few hours."

"My ship shut down." She replied, lost in thought, "Why'd it shut down?"

"I told you, the analysts said it was a virus."

"That's not possible. They're wrong. It can't be."

She sighed, "They're _sure_. It was sent through a transmission you received."

"But the last transmission I got was… the Tallest were calling, I had just talked with them and hung up, but they called again. I – I picked it up…." Tak tried to remember the events leading up to her ship's failure, hoping to isolate the cause of the virus. "The Tallest didn't try to kill me, did they? I was outside their jurisdiction, they can't punish me for leaving the Compost Planet…."

"You disobeyed a direct order, Tak." Tenn reminded, "I don't think it matters."

"Those stupid, arrogant sons-of-bitches!" She swore angrily, "I won't go back! You can't make me!"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down, Tak. Won't go back _where_?"

"To _Irk_ , you moron! I won't go out like this, just because they say so. I won't let them lock me up; I'd rather die first! If you try to take me back there, I'll kill you!"

"No one's taking you _anywhere_."

"…What?"

"I'm not here because Irk sent me."

Tak narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "The Tallest didn't send you to clean up their mess?"

"No! Out of curiosity, though… what makes you think that?"

Tak made a disgusted noise and crossed her arms, despite being sluggish from the sedatives. "That's how they deal with problems back home. I could have avoided all this and gained a place in their favor if I had just killed Zim myself."

"You weren't in it for the Empire?" Tenn asked, clearly puzzled.

"I was in it to prove my worth. That's all I've ever cared about. _You_ were the picture-perfect Invader, _you_ don't know what it's like to have your potential ignored. I worked hard at the Academy, I devoted every waking moment to becoming the best Invader I could – I didn't even get to take the test, and ended up a laughing stock! Pardon me if I don't exactly sound _patriotic,_ but my government hasn't exactly done me any favors." She spat. After a moment of mentally reviewing her statement, her angry expression morphed into horror and confusion, "I – I don't know why I just said that, I'm devoted – _supposed_ to be devoted to the Empire, to the Tallest, no matter what… I mean, sometimes I think I want to be angry, but I just _can't_. What's going on? What's happening to me?!"

"There are these things in our Paks called receptors. They basically override natural instincts and fuck with the neural system. I don't really know they work, I just know that they tailor and inhibit instincts and emotions. Do you follow me so far?"

Tak just nodded.

"I've had mine removed. I, uh, I don't like the thought of someone telling me what I can and can't do, or how I'm supposed to feel."

"…Feel?"

"Yes. Those weird rushes don't understand that hit you from out of nowhere… that's a feeling. I think. This whole thing is still pretty new to me too. 'Sensations', I guess might be a good way think of them."

"They're… awkward. I don't understand. This has never happened before, why's it starting all of a sudden? I don't like it."

Tenn sighed, bracing herself for the worst, "We knew that if we took you out of cryo while the receptors were still in place, Irk would still be manipulating you. It was a long debate… nobody was really comfortable with the decision, but we couldn't just leave you to die out there. We also couldn't risk Irk finding out about us… there's so much happening beyond what you can see, beyond what they tell you. You have to understand, Tak, we didn't _want_ to do this… we wanted to give you a choice. Everything Irk has every told us has been a lie. Everything we ever fought for has been part of somebody's elaborate game. We've been used, Tak. _All of us_. Every soldier, every Invader, every drone, and every Tallest, all we do is someone else's dirty work."

"You _can't_ know that." Tak replied, sounding very unsure of herself.

"Why is it that nobody ever questions the Tallest? Anyone who does conveniently disappears. Look at the Empire. Do you see any logic in it?"

"I don't understand…" She sounded exhausted and pleading.

Tenn sighed, "There's a group of people you never see, but _they're_ the ones in power."

Tak laughed, "That's mad. The Tallest wouldn't stand for it."

"They don't have a choice."

The other Irken's facial expression clearly communicated the sentiment of skepticism.

"I know about the kinds of things _They_ do to get the Tallests to obey. Do you know what the body would have to go through to fit their armor? Have you ever really thought about it, Tak?"

"…What… what are you trying to say?" The sedatives were making the confusion worse, Tenn knew that from experience, but she needed to make Tak understand.

"The armor's not _supposed to_ fit. It's torture to wear, until you get used to it. The Tallest are just two very unlucky people, and nothing else."

"…No. Y-you… you're lying! You're _lying_!"

Tenn shook her head with a sigh, "I wish to every god I was. I didn't want to believe it at first, I really didn't. I've seen the damage it does, Tak."

Tak had become a conduit of pure fury. The exhaustion was the only thing that prevented her from being able to follow through with the urge to seize the pink-eyed Irken by the throat and choke the life out of her. On the other hand, part of her knew she was wracked by the things she was hearing because, for some reason, she believed Tenn on some level. Not because she felt anything in regard to the torture Tenn described; there was no sympathy or pity spent on her part. She was infuriated, however, over the thought that she might have been deceived.

If nothing else, Tak was proud. It was a shortcoming she could never really overcome, and it only served to exacerbate the anger she was feeling. The thought of being used by _anyone_ , let alone in the way that Tenn had described, was more of a violation than she'd ever felt in her entire life. Next to this, Zim seemed like an old friend. Denial complemented the frustration, and the harder she denied it, the more hopeless the situation began to feel. The walls of the small, sterile room felt as if they were closing in on her.

"Tak? I know this is a lot. I've been through it. You have to get a grip; your brain isn't used to being dominant and your Pak can't control your neural system anymore. You'll do serious damage if you don't keep yourself calm and breathe, all right?"

Tak felt the urge to punch Tenn in the face, but seeing as she could hardly take in air properly, she decided grudgingly that Tenn was right and focused on her breathing until it evened out. Whatever it had been, that minor episode only managed to add to her exhaustion. "You took them out of me, didn't you? You, and whoever your friends are. You took those things out of my Pak. You were hoping I'd switch sides, weren't you?"

"…We hoped you'd switch, but we didn't want to remove anything. We wanted you to choose, but we knew that if the receptors were still controlling you, you wouldn't be making a real choice; _Irk_ would be making a choice for you. They'd just be using you again."

"What about you? You were allowed to choose."

"Mine got fried. Overloaded, apparently. Red – er, _someone_ explained it to me… my brain kept producing some kind of energy or chemical or however it works, and the receptors weren't strong enough to hold it back. It happens sometimes. They either ship the Irken off to the Screaming Void or brand them as a defect. I guess, in a way, I didn't have a choice either. But we _are_ giving you a choice."

Tak looked at the other Irken curiously. "You are? How?"

"We didn't kill the connections in your Pak, and we haven't dismantled the receptors. We _did_ turn off the tracker, though, that was just too much of a risk. If you didn't want in with us, we can set everything back."

Tak sighed, eyes closed with her face turned toward the ceiling. "I told you that all I ever wanted was to be the best. I didn't go after Zim for revenge; I wanted to use Earth to prove I deserved a second chance, and to prove to the Tallest I was valuable asset. If you're telling the truth, if the Empire really has been using me the way you say," Tak opened her dark violet eyes and Tenn saw the ferocity that had terrified her during combat training all those years ago, "there won't be an Empire much longer."

Tenn suddenly felt a physical sensation strikingly similar to when she'd had a sword plunged straight through her body. The wound in her side ached as she sat in the small room filled with a terrible, ghastly silence.

Tenn had made a distinguished name for herself. She had a solid reputation, and she had earned every bit of it. Up until now, Tenn had only ever been afraid of the Irken in the black cloak who'd almost killed her. At the moment, though, Tenn would freely admit that she wanted to bolt out the door, screaming. Tak was very much like a structure composed of solid lead with a barbed-wire electric fence surrounded by a mote laced with arsenic, filled with radioactive piranhas and reinforced by a hoard of rabid guard dogs. As soon as you were within line of sight, the dogs were growling and you knew to stay away if you valued your life at all. At the Academy it had only been the strange and uneasy unsubstantiated feeling that she would tear you apart, and there was no reason to think she'd actually take things so far. Once she disobeyed the Control Brains, it was clear that she had Tak had no problem taking things as far as necessary to get what she wanted.

"So… do you plan on staying?"

"…I don't know." Tak admitted. "Give me some more time to think."

Tenn nodded and advised her to rest before taking her leave. She could not deny the great surge of relief she felt when the door shut and locked behind her.

* * *

"There's good news, and bad news." The doctor announced, entering the room where the former Tallest sat.

"Isn't there _always_ bad news?" Red muttered.

Purple ignored his partner's pessimism and took his hand, "What did you find?"

"Well, your muscular structure seems to be much less atrophied than my original assessment. You'll still need to build significantly on what you've got, but it won't be nearly as painful or as long a process as I thought."

"Now for the bad news." Red interjected.

The doctor sighed, "You've both suffered a great deal of bone loss. They're much more fragile than they should be. The vitamins and supplements, even in macro doses, won't be enough to really do any good on their own. There's an experimental treatment that seems to assist bone growth, and with your permission, I'd like you both to try it. There is a chance that it could work, if we try it in conjunction with very strict regiment of supplements."

"How invasive is it?" Purple asked.

"Just two injections. No surgery, or anything."

"And the side effects?" Red questioned.

"…Pain." The doctor admitted, avoiding eye contact, "A lot of it. Dull, achy, and localized. Sedatives and painkillers _are_ an option, but they'll increase the overall recovery time."

"So we're just basically going to have to wait it out." It wasn't a question so much as a statement of fact. He was clearly upset with the doctor's findings. Hadn't they both suffered enough? The condition had to be treated, but why did the solution always involve pain? They didn't have time to waste, and Red knew that sedatives and painkillers would just delay the recovery of everything else.

"There's something else you can do to manage the it, though. It's sometimes used as a last resort for patients with chronic pain, and it'll help with the atrophied muscle. I think Red might actually prefer this method."

Both Irkens had no idea what the doctor meant to imply, and the confusion was obvious from their expressions.

"I would recommend that you use interpersonal intimacy, instead of medication."

Purple looked at the doctor with shock and disbelief while Red raised an absent eyebrow in interest.

"Not that I'm complaining, Doc, but _how_ exactly is that not going to make things worse?"

"Well, you can't be too rough with each other; trust me, you won't have the energy. Pain is processed by the limbic system. So is pleasure. You can only focus on the most intense sensation you're experiencing at any given time. You do the math. It's the safest bet… but if you still want to go the medication route, we could always try that."

"I'm happy with the alternative medicine." Red grinned like a madman.

Purple just rolled his eyes, "You're lucky I love you." He turned his attention to the doctor, "Yeah, that sounds fine."

"Guess everything's _not_ such bad news, after all." Red commented, his tone significantly brighter. "Didn't I tell you that hospitals could be fun?"

"You're horrible."

"You know you love it." Red taunted.

"So, how soon can we get started? It'll be interesting find out what it feels like to run again." Purple asked the doctor.

He smiled, "Everything's ready for you both. You won't be running for a while, but we'll start with some _very light_ exercise and muscle stim."

Purple nodded in reply.

Red studied his partner. It wasn't anything the doctor would have been able to detect, but having been around him for so long, Red had begun to develop a sense of when something wasn't right, no matter how small it might have been. He knew that more than almost anything, Purple wanted the image of his younger self back. It wasn't vanity that motivated him. Purple had always seen the armor as a symbol of the burden that came with the position of Tallest. The weight of all that metal against his shattered chest was a reminder of what the years had done to him. When they smashed Purple's sternum they had fractured his soul, too. His body was an echo of what his life had become.

He'd caught Purple standing in front of their bedroom mirror one day, a long time ago, half dressed and staring at his reflection in a way that made Red worry.

" _Hey,"_ He said, standing behind his partner and wrapping his arms around Purple's waist, _"are you okay?"_

Purple didn't respond for a while, and Red had just held him until his partner made eye contact with his reflection, _"Someday, I want to look into a mirror and not regret what I see."_

" _Do you regret_ me _?"_

" _No. Never, Sweetheart. Why would you ask me that?"_

" _You're seeing me in the mirror, aren't you?"_

" _You know what I meant."_

" _I do. But maybe it's time you started looking in a bigger mirror."_

" _How so?"_ He had asked curiously.

" _You might start seeing_ us _instead of_ you _and_ me _."_

The damage they'd suffered had forced them into a position of helplessness for a very long time. It was painful enough in its own right, but for Purple, losing the ability to fight back had a profound effect on his sense of self-worth. Purple did not pride himself on many things, but the one thing Red knew his partner would give himself credit for was his combat ability. Taking that away from him in the fashion that they had really broken his heart.

Red had failed to notice just how much until now. Purple wasn't fond of fighting for the sake of violence so much as sport. The way he'd been able to adjust and refine all of his movements in only an instant was incredible. Red remembered the first time they'd ever used the training facilities reserved for the Elite soldiers. Apparently, it had been some kind of bizarre tradition to beat up the new recruits as a rather extreme form of hazing. One of them had been dumb enough to punch Red in the eye unexpectedly.

Red had hissed in pain, muttering a curse under his breath as he held a hand to his wounded eye. The group of older Irkens laughed in amusement.

" _I'd been planning to spar with him. Loser was going to buy dinner tonight."_

" _I'll make it real easy on ya both and knock your teeth out."_

" _No,"_ Purple replied, an amused grin spreading over his mouth, _"clearly, you missed my point."_ The violet-eyed Irken took a quick step backward with his right foot as the Irken who'd punched Red swung his fist, the blow failing to connect with Purple's head. He simply stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching as the Irken stumbled off balance. _"Looks like you missed my head, too. Apparently, you miss a whole lot of stuff. What I_ meant _to communicate was that you've fucked with my dinner plans. Not to mention, my best friend. You've got one chance to turn around and walk out of here, and I'll pretend this didn't happen."_

Purple rolled his eyes at their laughter, then stepped to the left, ducked, and stepping forward with his left foot, delivered a solid punch at the Irken's face that knocked him to the ground. Red remembered the light, careless smile on his partner's face, as each of the six other Irken Elite soldiers pitted themselves against him and he fought them off, switching his style of movement in between seconds. When he was finished, he sighed and looked at Red.

" _How's your eye?"_

" _It just saw you kick the asses of seven Elite soldiers."_

" _In perfect working order, then."_ He grinned, _"I've always wanted to do that."_

Red offered a questioning glance, _"Annihilate a room full of hardened soldiers using your body as a weapon? And I thought I had some strange goals."_

" _No! I've always wanted to knock out the jerk who punched you."_

" _Why? You've met him before?"_

" _He said I was ugly once."_

"You really miss sparring." Red mused to his partner.

Purple sighed and met Red's gaze with soft eyes and a broken smile, "Yeah."

"I never noticed how much until a minute ago."

"Eh, it's one of those stupid little things, I guess."

"You'll get it back, Pur."

Purple just gave a hopeful smile. "Maybe I will."

* * *

Lard Nar had _just_ awakened of his own free will when his com began to beep. He grumbled a sentiment in Vortian roughly translating to _'go die in greasefire'_ and forced himself out of bed and answered his vid-com.

"…Is this a bad time, Sir? I can call back later…."

He sighed, "No, it's fine, Shloonktapooxis. I'd just woken up. Everything all right?"

"For now. Tak hasn't made a decision, but Tenn said she didn't explode, so I figure _that's_ a good thing! …Tenn also said she thinks Tak is 'batshit insane' and wants her gone, or under some kind of supervision, so that's less good."

Lard Nar just shook his head. "And Red and Purple? How's the rehab?"

"Dunno. Haven't seen 'em. They haven't checked in to their temporary quarters, yet, so I don't think their session is done."

"And Spleenk?"

"Hasn't gotten off the computer. Keeps swearin' at the search engine."

The Captain laughed a little.

"But I didn't call to give a status update." The perplexingly shaped first mate explained.

"Oh. So what's this about?"

"Well, I was talkin' with the other captains about the refugees they took on. Thought I'd start getting an estimate of which crews wanted more personnel, and how many, ya know? So we're all talkin' and one of 'em goes _'there's a real problem with a guy we took on',_ said they hadda put him in lockup. I said we had a fight break out, too, but he said there wasn't a fight on his ship. So I was like _'why'd you have to put him in lockup'_ and he was like _'he's crazy. He don't talk at all. He's cryin' all the time but he's never makin any noise'_ he said they tried to talk to him, but he got real scared and passed out. They searched him while he was out, just to make sure he wouldn't go killin' people when he woke up and they found a weird-lookin' thingy."

"…Weird looking thingy? How, in any way, does that help me at all?"

Shloonktapooxis sighed, "It was… well, we'd never seen it before. Looked like some kinda old-ass info-disk. Maybe. It couldda been a can opener, for all we know. Point is, the crazy guy went all crazy on them when he woke up and didn't have it. He started acting real scary, hittin' his head against the wall and stuff. Scared the crew so much they gave it back. After that, it was like nothin' ever happened."

Lard Nar took a moment for his mind to adjust to not only the speed at which his first mate spoke and the interesting 'dialect' that drenched his words, but also the information itself. Whoever this prisoner had been, he wasn't like the others, so far as Lard Nar knew. One of these things is not like the other ones. _This_ was new. This was an anomaly. The Captain didn't have the kind of mind that could even begin to understand the possible implications of the specifics, but he knew exactly the person who did.

"How's his status right now?"

"Calm… for a crazy person."

"Make sure he stays that way."

"He's in the psych wing. Seems to like the padded walls."

"I've got an idea. Nice work, Shloonktapooxis."

* * *

Spleenk made a frustrated noise and gripped his head as his search turned up zero results for the sixty-seventh time. "Your mother was a Hogulous, you evil, evil computer. I hate you."

"Technical difficulties, Spleenk?" The Captain smiled as approached the cluttered research terminal where Spleenk was working.

Spleenk sighed, "It's evil. There's no other explanation. I have searched as many variations as I could, used every keyword I could think of, even sorted though the results it turned up when I searched 'history'! Still _nothing_! …Well, nothing relevant."

Lard Nar quirked an eyebrow, "What are you trying to do?"

"I decided to go back in the Universal Database records, to get a better history of Irk. Wanted to see if I could find any accounts of early revolutions, or first-contact documentations made by other races, or _anything_ that might help us find out how long this whole thing has been going on. Sixty-seven searches and there's _nothing_. It's like Irk just appeared out of nowhere. There's nothing from any planet in the known universe before at least ten thousand standard years ago."

"They've been in space much longer than that."

"All I've come up with is military history. Unless the planet fell into a Dark Age that _nobody_ else seemed to notice or remember, I'm out of theories." Spleenk sighed in frustration, "That would have been _impossible,_ since we've all been in contact with Irk longer than ten thousand years. I understand why these people would go out of their way to hide things, but normally, you just _rewrite_ an entry. Not delete an entire _history!_ "

"Maybe that's why they did it." Lard Nar offered. "It's the perfect crime. No evidence."

"Makes sense. Still... you can't deny that these people are prideful and arrogant. Arrogant people _want_ to be noticed. Even if these guys wanted to stay quiet, they'd want to prove they were in control in little ways. Like manipulating intelligence because they get a thrill out of the control deception gives them."

"…So what does that mean for us?"

Spleenk gave the Vortian a worried look, "They _know_ it, which makes them doubly careful."

"Would it make you feel better if I told you we might have a lead?"

Spleenk studied the Captain. "What's the catch?"

"…He's insane."

"Oh. I suppose it could be worse."

"I thought that if any of us would have luck with him, it'd probably be you."

"Aw, that's so sweet… a crazy person pops up and your first thought is of me. Really, 'Nar, you _do_ know how to flatter a guy."

The Vortian stuttered in an awkward attempt to explain and apologize until Spleenk couldn't hold his laughter in any longer.

"I'm _kidding_! You really _are_ quite cute when you get all flustered, though." He replied with a wink as he exited the room. The Vortian narrowly succeeded in suppressing the urge to giggle like a proverbial schoolgirl and run to the nearest thing with a pulse and inform it of what just happened. He instead collected himself after a moment and started down the hallway after Spleenk.

* * *

"Master!"

"Yes, Computer?" Zim asked, his mouth full of half-chewed cheese pizza.

"…That's gross, Zim." The human observed, with a neutral expression on his face. It took a hell of a lot more than _that_ to make Dib cringe these days.

"Silence, Large-Headed-Dib-Beast-of-Burden! The Computer was talking." The Alien reprimanded, "Go ahead, Computer. The Pig-Boy of Filth is sorry for interrupting you."

"Yeah, whatever." It sighed in its usual tone, "I have been monitoring Invader Skooge's life signs, as per your instruction. He's stabilized. Mostly."

"Mostly?" Zim asked, his face as if he'd raised the eyebrow he didn't have.

"Well, he's not exactly at normal levels but he's been at _these_ levels for about an hour. It's probably safe to go in."

" _Probably?_ What do I pay you for?"

"…You _still_ don't pay me _at all_."

"Oh. Well, I meant to."

The Computer grumbled to itself. "Any other orders, Sir?"

"Not now. Thanks, Computer."

Dib took another bite of his pizza. "So… do we have a plan this time?"

"I think this whole 'no plan' thing has been working out pretty well for us. Maybe I should have tried to not have a plan more often."

The boy sighed, "You're _still_ Zim, all right."

"Of course I am, foolish Baby Lima Bean! And you will bask in the amazing-ness that is Zim! Go! _Bask_!"

Both Zim and Dib laughed uncontrollably. They had managed to get a hold on themselves only to look at each other and break into laughter again.

Zim decided that it was good to laugh. He hadn't done much of it in recent days, and moments like this had been terribly rare. It was hard to remember a time when he wasn't laughing out of malice or spite.

" _Baby Lima Bean_?!" Dib managed, " _That's_ a new one!"

"A testament to my greatness!"

Once their laughter subsided, Dib examined the crust of his pizza, "And now we've got to have a serious talk with Skooge."

Zim stifled his amusement.

Dib rolled his eyes, "This can only end badly."

"Eh, probably." The Irken responded nonchalantly, eating the remainder of his pizza in a single bite.

Dib shook his head. "So, same plan as before?"

"If by _'same plan'_ you mean _'no plan'_ then, yeah. We're good to go."

The room was eerily quiet. Not even the sound of the door opening seemed to have drawn the other Invader's attention.

"Is he okay?" Dib asked, trying to see past Zim, into the room.

"How am _I_ supposed to know, Dirt-for-Brains?" He asked in a harsh, sarcastic whisper.

"Um, try _asking_." Dib replied, his voice implying the words _"you're an idiot"_ without the boy ever having to speak them.

" _You_ ask!"

"What?! Why should _I_ ask?! _You're_ the one he's known his whole life!"

"Because… _because_ Zim says so!"

Dib's expression indicted that Zim had lost the argument.

"How about GIR?"

"For the stupidity of that suggestion _alone_ , _you_ have toask."

Zim growled under his breath before exhaling warily. "…Skoodge? A-are you reasonably all right?" Zim asked with caution, reluctant to enter the room very far.

"I don't think I'm _ever_ going to be all right."

The other Invader sighed, relaxing somewhat, "I don't think anyone involved in this madness will."

"I… I hate… I _don't know_ what I hate!" Skooge cried, "But I hate it."

Zim just nodded with an expression that indicated he knew exactly what the cuffed Irken meant.

"I don't want to do this."

Dib sighed. "There was a human who once said, _"if we cannot do what we want, we must do what we can"_. I know… I know this is personal for you, and I don't envy the position you've been put in. You've got every right to turn away and tell us that this isn't your problem, but that's where you're dead wrong."

Skoodge looked at Dib as if he'd grown a second (and equally as large) head.

"This is about more than you. It's about more than you, or Zim, or me, or Red and Purple. It's about more than Irk. It's about the future, and making sure there actually _is_ one. It's about the entire universe. If you want to live, if you don't want to see the universe destroyed, it doesn't matter if you still consider Red and Purple your enemies. We say on Earth, _"the enemy of my enemy is my friend"_. You can fight for whatever reason you want." The boy explained.

Maybe that Super-Toast the child's father was famous for creating really _did_ increase the brain capacity of humans, because Zim could think of no other reason for Dib's sudden intelligence. Then again, maybe he'd never really been listening properly. …No. He was pretty sure it had to be the toast.

"You don't need to decide now." Zim said, addressing his fellow Invader, "I'm going to put a call through and see what happens. I won't tell them you're here. Maybe it'll be different if you actually hear it from them."

Skooge's grim expression indicated that it wasn't likely.

Zim (who would never admit to the nervousness he was feeling) proceeded to dial the specified number he'd been given. He was greeted by an unfamiliar green blob-creature who seemed to be eternally drooling some kind of goo and an alien with three heads.

"Hey, _you're_ that guy we've been waiting to hear from!" The strange alien said, upon recognizing Zim. "My instructions are to put you through to Red and Purple immediately. Good timing, too, they _just_ got out of their treatment." His smile turned into a bit of a frown, "Sally will have you on an extra-safe channel in no time."

The former Invader nodded and stood in patient, somewhat anxious silence as he waited while the vidscreen-saver consumed the monitor and elevator music drifted through his speakers.

"That screensaver," Dib started, only to be interrupted by Zim.

"It's the inside of an elevator, yes."

"Oh. I guess that's clever, in a strange sort of way."

A few moments longer, and he found himself looking into an unfriendly sterile room, at two Irkens he did not recognize for a moment. The absence of their usual garments wasn't what confused him. They were currently wearing plain-style bathrobes that matched their eye colors respectively, so he really shouldn't have had any difficulty processing their appearance.

He'd never seen them so frail.

The exhaustion in their faces was too much to hide, and despite having told Zim a detailed account of what they'd endured, the Invader could tell that they were both still trying to mask a great deal of emotion. He couldn't fault them for instinctually falling into old habits.

Red greeted him with an enthusiastic, "Zim!"

"Glad to see you." Purple said with a smile and a nod.

"Likewise, Sirs."

Both former Tallest cringed, "Forget the 'Sir'. We're just us again."

Zim nodded.

"Forgive us for not standing… it's been a long day." Purple explained, "Tired from the physical therapy and the bone treatments are starting to kick in."

"Does it… hurt?" Zim asked reluctantly.

"No, not really. Well, not _yet_. Just makes you feel wiped out and a little achy."

"We'll know if it's working in a day or so. It should take less than a week, if they do, to get our bones in good shape. The spinal surgeries are going to suck, but at least we can get anesthesia for that."

"You know, this'll be the first time I've ever had _any_ kind of anesthesia." Red commented idly, as if the implications of what he'd said were as simple as describing the color of an orange.

"Yeah, it's weird. I almost feel uncomfortable with the idea of not knowing what's going on. Anyway, they can't do anything about the cartilage or re-alignment until our bones can actually handle the pressure of a 'properly-aligned' spine, apparently. It'll be a couple of days recovery for that, but we shouldn't take more than two weeks to get back to active duty."

"…All of that sounds like a pretty intensive process." A barely familiar voice responded, "How can all _that_ much damage over so long be fixed in two weeks?"

Both former Tallest looked severely confused, "Who's that?" Red asked.

"What's going on?" Purple's voice was wary.

Zim sighed in annoyance, "This feeble, large-headed Earth-child,"

"My name's Dib." He said, stepping into view, acknowledging the Irkens on the other end of the call, "I've talked with you once before."

Both of them appeared to be struggling to place where and when they had seen the boy before.

"I remember you! You're that kid who danced with Zim's robot!" Purple blurted out.

Zim didn't try to hide his laughter and Dib silently glared at the former Invader.

"… I think I remember that." Red mused, nodding his head as if the memory was returning, "You called us 'scum'."

Dib couldn't bring his eyes to meet the screen. Zim kicked him in the shin.

"Ow! What the heck, Zim?!"

"You do not speak of the Tallest that way!"

"It's in the past. Just let it go, Zim." Red sighed, far too tired to begrudge the large-headed alien. "What's he doing on this call?"

"Ah, yes, well, Zim called to say that you can count him in. Zim is happy to help in any way he can."

Both tall Irkens looked visibly relieved.

"The Dib," He said, glancing at the boy, "and I have agreed to a truce; seeing as there is no longer a reason to remain mortal enemies, with the exception of complete and utter distain for each other. Since I am no longer trying to take over his planet, he's got nothing to protect. After enough relentless nagging, I have assessed that he could contribute much to this fight."

Red and Purple seemed to consider this. "Go on. Explain."

Dib stepped in. "When the two of us have joined forces in the past, we've always won. I know how Zim thinks, which means I can work with him and help him work better with everyone. My dad's the smartest scientist on my planet, which I know doesn't really say much, but it would give you access to resources _none_ of the other aliens could know about. I know how standard alien equipment works, I can read and speak Irken, and I mostly comprehend Vortian. Plus… I've kind of been prepping for this sort of thing my whole life."

"Well, as far as recruitment goes, 'Nar will want to run a background check. Since you don't _have_ an interstellar background, he'd probably be willing to take you on. I'm sure he'll want to have some kind of interview to decide where you're best suited. Sounds like you'd prefer to be involved with a starship. If we see potential, we'll put in a good word, but the choice is still _his_. I shouldn't speak for Purple, though."

"No, I'm thinking along the same lines. And if Red thinks you're worth a shot, I'll go with it. He's the one with the head for strategic planning. We'll run it by the Captain ASAP and get back to you… Dib, right?"

The human nodded before his expression shifted to convey curiosity. "Is he okay?" Dib asked, nodding toward Red, who had been sitting beside his partner on a medium-sized medical-style cot.

Purple turned toward his partner immediately and saw him clenching the sheets in his fists, hanging his head and keeping his expression obscured. The violet-eyed Irken did not even try to mask his concern. He was frightened at the sight of his partner in such a state, and even more because he didn't know what to do about it. The solutions that had always worked in the past might cause more harm than good.

"Red, Sweetheart…" he tried in a soft, calming voice as he laid one of his hands on top the clenched fist closest to him, "is it the side effects?" Purple would have asked him if something was wrong, but he felt the answer to that question was fairly obvious.

"Is he okay?!" Zim asked with panic in his voice from the call still on the vidscreen.

Purple sighed curtly and offered a quick, "I don't know" in response before focusing on his partner. "Should I call the doctor?"

"N-no." He answered weakly, attempting to shake his head. "It's getting a little better now. Just… I knew I felt achy before, but I didn't think it'd be so sudden."

Purple exhaled a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry for being short with you, Zim." Purple offered, "I kind of panicked."

"What do you mean?"

"I was scared."

"…Scared?"

Purple nodded, taking hold of his mate's hand in a proper fashion.

Zim felt the world falling away from him again. The sensation of panning around the room through a fish-eye lens as it dissolved into white and voices became sounds and just faded into silence. He had been shaken to see how tired Red and Purple looked when they had picked up the call. Watching a fit of agony tear through Red's bones had been horrific. He had never, in all the years he'd known the taller Irken, _ever_ seen him succumb to anything similar. Zim had always imagined him to be impossibly strong and completely unbreakable. For a moment, he had allowed himself to forget that he was speaking not with the Tallest but Red and Purple. He had assumed the terms were interchangeable and discovered, much to his horror, that they were not. Behind the title of "Tallest", Red and Purple were just like everyone. He _knew_ this; it had been explained to him. He just didn't want to think about it.

"Zim… you still there?" Purple's voice inquired, snapping Zim into reality.

"Yes, Zim is awake."

"Do you have any questions for us?" Red asked.

"Zim would like to know his new mission."

The deepest expression of regret the three gathered in Zim's base had ever seen was suddenly carved into Red's face in response to the somewhat dysfunctional Invader's question. Purple looked as if he were struggling between sadness and fury, looking away from the screen while absentmindedly fidgeting with his jaw.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Zim. We're both so, _so_ sorry for what we did to you. You have to know that. You didn't deserve it, not the kind of humiliation we put you through." Red responded in a voice on the verge of breaking.

Zim was fine to leave the issue where it was. He would listen to the part of him that understood that whatever it was, it would only have a detrimental effect on everyone present. "It is of no concern anymore." He smiled.

The two taller Irkens relaxed considerably.

"We'll have to find a way to get you out here first." Red addressed Zim's earlier question. He cringed momentarily, inhaling with a sharp hiss before breathing out a series of choice Irken phrases.

"The pain's back again?" Purple asked.

"It just passed." Red answered, his breathing evening out. "It would take months to get you out here even with a hyperdrive. I don't know how we can get around that." Red sighed.

"We've got access to a quantum engine." Said a familiar disembodied voice.

"Skoodge?" Purple asked, before the Irken even stepped into view.

"They sent me here to get rid of me when Zim's deactivation signal went through. I think they sent my ship's computer system a virus. Everything's offline."

"Don't go touching the engine – it could be rigged to self-destruct on removal." Red advised.

"Why'd they design it like that? Wouldn't we wanna use the leftover parts for scrap?"

"Say you're the only race with the capability to travel through Quantumspace. That technology is worth a fortune. It's a huge military advantage, too. I'd bet they even put a tracking beacon on it."

"So… can we use it?"

"Maybe." Red answered, tossing the idea around in his head. "If you can take some video images of the engine itself, and a scan of the ship's internal configuration… run a computer scan for anomalies and a tracking beacon. _Do not_ let that little robot near it. Any data you can get without actually touching it would be great. Upload it to Sally – the alien who looks like a green blob – I'll see if I can get Tak in on it as well, this seems to be her area. We've also got every scientist from the military research facility that used to be on Vort at our disposal. We just might figure this thing out."

"Wait – Tak?! When did _she_ come into the picture?" Dib interjected.

"We found her on our way here. Life support was sabotaged with a virus, probably the same as Skooge. She survived by putting herself in a cryo chamber she built and used her SIR unit for a power source. We weren't sure what to do with her… the argument was bad. We ended up with a compromise solution. We don't know if she wants to stay." Purple answered. "I'm just worried that she'll play along until she's got enough information to take back with her to Irk."

"You think she'd really do that to _you guys_?" Dib asked.

"We don't mean anything to her." Red reminded, "She wasn't motivated out of respect or kindness last time; it was an attempt at bribery. We don't know if we can trust her. At the same time, there was no reason for Lard Nar or anyone else here to trust _us_. There was no reason for _you_ to trust us. It's a little bit hypocritical to not give her a chance if she wants one."

"…Red?" Purple managed, his face contorted in pain.

"You're starting to feel it?"

He nodded firmly and cringed, emitting a whimper too quiet to be picked up by the call but within earshot of Red. "…It hurts."

He lightly kissed Purple's forehead before turning his attention back to the screen.

"You both look… tired. I believe you should get some rest."

"We'll keep in regular contact."

"Zim, out!"

The screen went black and Purple collapsed against his mate, starting to cry as if on cue, "It hurts so much, Red… oh god, make it _stop_ , please, it hurts…."

"Shhh, Love." Said the red-eyed Irken, far too concerned with his partner's welfare to notice the aching of his own skeleton. "It'll pass."

Purple struggled, almost frantically to speak but Red silenced him with another gentle "hush" sound and soft kiss on his lips, gradually inviting the other Irken to slowly participate in the gesture. He ran a hand delicately over the antennas lying flat against his mate's head and grinned at the involuntary sound Purple made.

"Lay down and relax."

Purple wasn't in the frame of mind to argue. The pain wasn't gone, but it _was_ beginning to fade.

* * *

"Do we know anything about this guy at all? _Except_ that he's crazy?" Spleenk asked the doctor who'd been caring for the mentally disturbed Vortian they'd rescued from the prison facility. "Have you run the facial recognition software and searched through missing persons databases?"

"We're working on it. None of the prisoners have ever seen him before, they said. The guy who found him during the evacuation said he was hiding in a closet. His tracking monitor picked up on his life signs, so he followed it." The psychiatrist explained.

"Mind if I talk to him?"

"Go for it. He's not much for conversation. I've been trying all day and I can't get at thing out of him."

Spleenk nodded in understanding. "I'd like to try anyway."

"Very well." He sighed, unlocking the door and allowing Spleenk entry.

The four-armed alien smiled awkwardly for a moment before taking a deep breath. "I'm Spleenk. Do you have a name?"

The former prisoner just looked like a cornered, frightened animal.

"I'm not here to hurt you. I just wanna help you. If you talk to us, we can start to help you get better."

The alien looked like he wanted to cry.

"…You _can't_ actually talk, can you?"

A frantic nod of agreement came in response.

"All these people trying to make you talk and not one of them bothered to ask if you _can_." Spleenk shook his head in disgust, "Unbelievable. This is gonna be tough, but if you try, I'll try extra hard, okay?"

He accepted Spleenk's proposal with a hesitant nod.

"Is there anything I can get you?" He asked, offering a pen and pad of paper. The ex-prisoner recoiled at the action, but approached the materials cautiously. He proceeded to try and eat the pen, which Spleenk had to quickly remove from his grasp. "No, that's not for eating. You'll get sick."

He waited a while, but nothing happened. Spleenk exited the room, taking a deep breath.

"Find anything?" Lard Nar asked.

"Yeah. He's mute."

"Told you." The doctor said.

"No. He lacks the physical ability to speak."

Lard Nar's headset beeped, letting him know he was being paged. With an irritated sigh, he pushed the button that allowed him to answer it. "Captain, go."

"Sir, we've got a bit of a situation…." Shloonktapooxis began.

"Where, when, and how bad?"

"Docking bay three, six minutes from now, unidentified ship silhouette."

" _Unidentified?!_ "

"Yessir!"

"Why do you _always_ sound so enthusiastic at times like this?" The Captain asked, bolting for docking bay 3.

"It'd _suck_ to die in a bad mood, Sir!"

Lard Nar seemed to consider this. "I worry about my sanity when _you_ start to sound logical. Don't open the bay doors until I get there!"

"Uhh… no can do, mon capitan."

"… _Why not_?!"

"They're overriding us. Yeeeeah, the door's opening. We're probably all gonna die!"

Lard Nar reached the docking bay just as the ship's airlocks were opening. No one, to their surprise was waiting for an ambush. "Well, they're not storming us yet. That could be a good sign."

Muffled, clanging sounds of metal-on-metal seemed to be heading for the open airlock. The security team held their position, despite the great deal of confusion they all felt as an alien clad from head to toe in ornate battle armor that had been so badly mangled that it resembled a cheese grater, holding a small child in his arms. His left leg was clearly broken from the way it dragged uselessly at his side as he braced his right side against the wall for stability. "We mean you no harm." He breathed, clearly aware of his injuries. "Our journey has been long and filled with many trials. I am Paladin Buir of Protectorate Guild. Though there are few of us left, we of the Protectorate still remain the guardians of those to whom we have been sworn. Our ship was attacked by several raiding parties yesterday, and we've been without proper living conditions since. She's risked her life to make this journey… please, tend to her, quickly!"

The Med-Evac team rushed to the child immediately, strapping a respiration mask over her nose and mouth while getting her onto a stretcher and preparing to wheel her into the ICU.

"She insisted that she come here herself." The Paladin explained, gesturing at the child as a medic approached him, examining his wounds.

"It's hardly responsible to take a child her age this far out into space because she wants to take a proverbial road trip!" The Captain lectured.

"You have mistaken her, Captain." He replied shaking his head, "She's no child."

"She can't be more than six years old!"

"Time is relative, Captain." Buir replied with an enigmatic smile. "As I said, she's no child."

"What is she, then?"

"She is the last known Yu Jian. Her name is Mei-Xīn."

"A Yu Jian?" The Captain asked. "I thought they were just a legend."

"I assure you, Captain, they're very real."

"There's no mention of them in the histories. I mean, every planet has their own accounts of soothsayers and the like in their ancient histories, but the Yu Jian? I that would explain how you knew the code to open the docking bay."

"You'll have to forgive that; she hates to use her gift for manipulative means, but her life was depending on it. I am afraid that all our lives may depend on it."

"What's a Yu Jian?" Shloonktapooxis asked. "I never heard of one of those before."

"Seers." Lard Nar answered. "Prophets. Yu Jian was their home-world."

"But it no longer exists." The Paladin answered, "It was destroyed."

"Seems ironic that a planet full of fortune-tellers would die under those circumstances."

"I rather thought so, myself. Mei has assured me that her people are alive and well."

"…I hate to be a killjoy, but they got blown up."

"By your logic, it only fits to say that Mei is dead." He smiled, "You and I know very well that this is not the case."

"Do you have any idea what happened to them?"

"She told me that they 'ascended' beyond the physical form. That they became beings of pure energy, creatures of light. They left their bodies behind and found a home far across the universe; a place we might hope to reach in a million years or more. She was chosen to remain. To stay behind as a guide.."

"Why did she need to come _here_?"

"Those are reasons she would not disclose to me. I begged her otherwise, but she claims that she senses her moment fast approaching. She has spoken of great destruction and darkness on the horizon."

"Great. Just what we need. Another harbinger of doom."

"You are not a fellow of the optimistic variety, are you, Captain?"

"It's hard to be an optimist when the 'bright side' of everything is pitch black."

* * *

**\- Allusions & Refrences -**

The human who once said, _**"if we cannot do what we want, we must do what we can"** _ is Lord Alfred Tennyson

 _ **"The enemy of my enemy is my friend"** _ is an Arabic and Chinese proverb. A variation can be found in the Bible (Exodus 23:22). It is also considered an approach to foreign policy.

The **you don't pay me** bit was from the IZ episode, _"Walk for Your Lives"_

If my friend gave me the correct Chinese translation, **Yu Jian** should translate to a variation of "to see; predict the future"

 **Mei-Xīn** should translate from Chinese to "beautiful mind"

I'm pretty sure I've missed a few.

**\- Notes -**

I loved writing Zim and Dib in this chapter.

I always liked Tak because was a wildcard, in terms of Irken social behavior. It's a very "shut up and obey" kind of deal; take the service drone in _"Hobo 13"_ for example. He was stuck in a terrible job, but did it anyway. Tak was stuck in a terrible job, but used her ingenuity to escape it and prove herself better than the system. She disobeyed the Control Brain. She hasn't had an opportunity to connect with anyone, so she comes off harsh.

I'm dead serious about the 'sex-as-pain-management' thing.

I love the idea of becoming pure energy. That'd rock.

I'm about five pages into 11. Things start to really connect. If I can pull it off, I'd like to get it up in record time. That sentence is just begging for innuendo. I think writing Red has sent _my_ mind farther down the gutter.


	11. Chapter 11

  **A/N:** This chapter is chock full of clues and hints as to what will happen in the rest of the story. If you know where to look, you'll be able to find _chunks_ of stuff spelled out for you. I like to think of this chapter as that point on a rollercoaster where the uphill climb just stops - right before you go flying downward several hundred stories, in terms of plot. Not much in terms of actual suspense, but the metaphor worked in my head. I can tell you for sure that everyone will _finally_ be in the same place next chapter! Zim and Co. were supposed to have made it there in this one, but at fifty pages, I thought it might drag.

 

This one goes out to **Double-oh-Seven** , who made this wonderful piece of fanart that is sadly no longer available :(

**\- 11 -**

When Mei woke the following day, she refused medical attention until the staff allowed her to speak with the Captain. The medical staff, having never seen brain activity quite like hers, remained reasonably frightened of just how far her "psychic" abilities went. Deciding they were better safe than sorry, a nurse had been sent after Lard Nar. He was escorted to her room by Buir, who despite his broken leg, seemed no worse for the wear, hardly making use of his crutches, and the nurse, who stopped following once she'd gotten about three feet away from the room.

"Oh, come on." Lard Nar addressed the nurse, "It's not like she's not gonna make your brain explode." His smile faded as he looked to the Paladin uneasily, "She, uh, can'tdo that… can she?"

"Mei can do many things, but she has no interest in violence."

"But she can't, like, uh… you know… um, never mind, it's better if I don't know."

Buir opened the door to Mei's room for the Captain and the nurse ran away the second she heard it close.

Lard Nar could only see a child when he looked at her no matter how many times he reminded himself of her capabilities, and that she was likely older than everyone on the ship, combined.

"Thank you for bringing him, Buir." Mei said kindly. The healing Paladin bowed respectfully and stood beside the door. "I know that you have many questions for me, Captain. You wish to know why I am here. Why, if I am as powerful as you believe, have I not intervened if I know what the future holds? Why was I left behind, if not to aid the proper cause? It is all right to have these questions, Sir. I would be quite worried if you did not."

Lard Nar sighed. Are you listening to my thoughts?"

She smiled, "No. Such behavior is uncouth and invasive. I do not enter the minds of others unless it is absolutely necessary for me to do so and no other option is available."

"When, exactly, does it become a case of necessity?"

"When my protector and I are dying and do not have time to obtain your trust before you open the door to the docking bay." She smiled wryly. "Other than that, I have communicated telepathically with the mute. Terminally ill. Those in a persistent vegetative state or coma. Did you know that I can enable myself as a telepathic conduit? If you were to hold one of my hands and Buir were to take the other and focus on communicating, I could establish a telepathic resonance between your minds and you could communicate by exchanging thoughts."

Lard Nar was unsure what to say. "That's _incredible_ , Mei!"

"It is merely energy, Captain. Telepathy is not magic. Any "power" you believe I have stems from the simple manipulation of energy."

"You still haven't told me why you're here."

"I came to see the colors. There is much depending on them."

"What do you mean?"

She gave the Vortian a small, warm smile. "The future has become uncertain… I came to learn what must be done."

"If you're a seer, can't you, you know, _see_ the future?"

"It's an incorrect assumption to believe that a seer can predict the future. Life consists of an infinite number of possibilities. Each decision we make closes the door to one possibility while opening any number of new ones."

Lard Nar didn't even bother to ask for her to explain it any further. "What do Red and Purple have to do with it?"

"The colors were unexpected. The future has become fluid. There are certain events cannot be changed or avoided; they simply _must be_ , while the rest of time remains in flux."

If only to spare himself from a headache, Lard Nar conceded, "I'll get them for you."

"Don't worry," Buir said to Lard Nar on his way out the door, "it took me twenty years to understand what she just tried to tell you."

The Vortian felt somewhat relieved.

* * *

They had no idea what a seer would want with the two of them, and were incredibly uneasy at first. She just showed up, out of nowhere and wanted to see into their individual futures? It sounded a little too coincidental for their liking. They ultimately decided, though, that if she _was_ indeed what she claimed, (Purple seemed to have read a book or two on the history of her people, and had a grasp of their beliefs and methods) it might be helpful to at least investigate the kind of help she could offer.

They crossed the threshold into her room and a satisfied smile appeared the prophetess's face. "My name is Mei-Xīn, of the Yu Jian. I have traveled a great distance to find you, in hopes that you will allow me to see for you."

"Why us?" Red asked. "And _what_ exactly are you trying to see?"

"You are unique. You have created a destiny for yourselves – but more importantly, I believe you may have created a destiny for the universe. You have set the future into motion on a new course. Time no longer flows down the stream it was headed for. A single moment was seized, and at that moment, you became responsible for a force that pulled the flow in a new, unexpected direction. The potential was always there, but the decision was not fixed. Decisions _cannot_ be fixed; the universe grants us the gift of choice. And yours has led you here, which has led me here, to you."

"You can see a bunch of different futures, but you've got no way to tell which of them will happen?" Purple asked, hoping to clarify the prophetess's words.

"Perhaps 'seer' is not the proper word for what I am. My kind has never had the ability to divine, only to anticipate. Energy can be neither created nor destroyed. It's the most basic of all the physical laws observed on any world, no matter _where_ one goes. There is no exception to this rule. The universe has it's own energy. You and I are part of it. Simply think of the universe as one long chain of cause and effect. A cause is defined as any object that acts on another object, and we call that action an "effect". Which, in it's own way, is really just another cause."

"Not necessarily." Red replied, "There's always coincidence and random chance."

She smiled. "Do you like me so little, Red, that you would argue that which you do not believe, so long as it rendered my argument invalid?"

"You don't know what I believe. Not if you've been keeping yourself out of my thoughts like you say."

"I do not need to enter your thoughts to see what is plainly written on your face. It's in the way you carry yourself. Your aura is ill at ease. By 'aura' I mean the energy surrounding you, not some sort of glow like in the old wives tales. There's a fundamental difference between my people and our abilities and those you have come to associate the modern-day 'seer' with."

"Which is?" Purple asked.

"I do not require hallucinogenic or psychotropic substances."

Red and Purple exchanged a glance while Mei giggled and the Paladin also indicated that he found the joke amusing.

"Ancient oracles and diviners of old used to induce visions through toxic substances… it's an impossible method, and has nothing at all do to with achieving the proper type of sight." She explained. "I tried to be funny. Perhaps it is something I should work on. My social life is not what it once was."

Buir laughed a little but neither Irken really had any sort of response.

"I am more out of practice than I thought. I shall improve my sense of humor at a later date." She sighed, "The fundamental difference between my people and other 'seers' was our methods. My people and I had simply grown more in tune with the energy of the universe. We could feel the causes and effects like the flow of a river. We could sense the direction in which things were headed, and if it were significant enough, we could anticipate the coming of a fixed point. Though the point is fixed, but the outcome is not.

Fixed points are like intersections. Once you chose a certain path, there are no side streets, no room for U-turns, no shoulder to pull over, no room to hit the breaks, and no way to turn around and avoid the traffic signal. Once there, it might present you with four or four hundred plus possible options, but it's an intersection you will have no choice but to face. In a way, our lives become like a map. Our choices shape the points we will reach along the way. The cartography of cause and effect, if you like.

"I can only see what _might be_. I can tell you what is most likely to occur on the current path, and if I am lucky, any fixed points along the way. But when you made the choice that brought you here, I felt the universe shift in a way that I have only ever felt once before. I believe that if perhaps I had paid closer attention to the two of you, I might have known it would come this time."

"What happened the last time it shifted?" Red asked out of curiosity.

She was quiet for a moment, as if it hurt her physically to speak. "The sky burned black and fell like snow. Life was swallowed by death and left only echoes in the dark places." She explained to a room so silent no one dared to breathe, "After centuries of sleep, we felt it move. Something buried there, deep… waiting. _Knowing_. We watched it rise in terror. Fear. My people did not involve themselves with outsiders. Our abilities were frightening to the younger races and we knew we were unwelcome. We had begun to reach the final stage of evolution, which enabled us to sense the immediacy of our planet's destruction. My kind had left the physical form behind and set off in search of those races than had achieved this long before us, to create a new home.

The Divine Mistress, the strongest and most capable of us, had a nightmare in which she saw the universe end. It my sound ironic to you, but Yu Juan do not dream. When we do, it is usually a sign of imminent death and extraordinary significance. I was chosen to stay behind and look after the younger races. I was entrusted to the Protectorate Guild, and they have, despite the years, honored their promise. Days after I left Yu Jian, it was destroyed. I learned the Divine Mistress had been planet-side at the time the attack occurred. When one of our kind dies… we all experience a feeling of great loss, no matter where we are across the universe. I knew the moment it happened, just as the rest of my people. She had seen it in her dream. She had seen her own death, and she had to make a choice. The alternate future she had seen must have terrible beyond imagination.

I have been entrusted with a task. Before I left my home world, I was given a private audience with her. She told me that I would be necessary, should certain signs come to pass. She said that it would begin with a planet falling into five years of darkness. There would be the emergence of a peacemaker, and if she were to die, the colors would spread across the galaxy. If the abyss was destroyed, I was to wait until the last sign. If the two of you had died and a prison was destroyed, then the time had come. I confess, I set out looking for you when I heard of the Captain's broadcast. I could not risk that we might miss each other.

I cannot wait for my own dream to come; it may be too late by then. You are all important; but the two have profoundly changed the universe. You have become something new. More importantly, what you have become the universe did not create. You created _yourselves_ through the gifts of the universe. Even my people struggled with establishing such a perfect equilibrium."

Neither Red nor Purple were sure what to feel in response to the enormous wealth of information the deceptively young-looking prophetess had just given them. Anything beyond the literal and tangible Red found himself skeptical of by nature, but all of _this_ was… it was something there was no word for. Purple seemed to have a slightly better grasp on the Yu Jian's words than Red, but he was still deeply confused.

"If it means that much… I guess it's okay." Purple shrugged, and looked at his partner for confirmation, who just shrugged back.

"Thank you." She sighed gratefully, "I will need each of you to take one of my hands. Close your eyes and try to clear your mind. Concentrate on your pulse. Feel the energy as it flows through you like the blood in your veins. Feel your heartbeat, your center, that which keeps the energy flowing. Ignore your Pak. It is merely a distraction. The warmth between our hands is also energy. Imagine the physical connection we form with our hands is a gateway. A bridge between the three of us. Now relax and breathe. Try to open your mind."

As strange as it was, Red and Purple followed instructions. They did feel shared sense of calm and peace, but they did not have any major revelations. When Mei broke the connection between the three of them, though, it was clear _she_ had.

"…What is it?" Purple asked, "Did you see something?"

She nodded, steadying herself, and the Irkens assumed that the connection had taken considerable energy to maintain.

"What?" Red interrogated, "Why couldn't we see it?"

"You, like everyone else here, do not yet understand how and where to look. To see the future, one must be willing to embrace it and all it's possibilities. Nothing reveals itself to those who go looking for it. The universe does not allow anything to come easily simply because one wishes it so."

"No kidding." Red sighed, "So, tell us what you saw."

"The man in between is waiting for you. Listen to what you cannot hear, and you will find him. You must deliver his promise; the one who waits for it was there at the beginning. She _was_ the beginning. Deliver to her the promise, and she will bring you to the end." She took a deep breath, "The universe will place her fate in your hands. This is something that cannot be changed. You cannot avoid this choice, it _will_ have to be made; what you will chose is the question that remains.

If you should want to win, you both shall die. If you choose to survive, you might live. If you should lose, all creation will perish. Beware, though, destruction may ride on the heels of victory. Survival does not guarantee that harm will not befall either of you. The only certainty is that losing will bring death throughout the universe. I do not believe you are in this to lose."

"Does _everything_ have to be cryptic and vague around here?" Red asked, clearly unhappy, "I need a fucking enigmatic-to-Irken dictionary! Why can't you just talk like a normal person? How is _any_ of what you just said supposed to help us at all?"

"You wish that I tell you when and were you must go, do you not? I told you before, there are no easy answers and few things are certain. I told you that you will be faced with a most difficult choice, and that the outcome of your decision will dictate the fate of things to come. The capacity for choice is what distorts prophecy. You want words you can reassure yourself with, to use as a defensive measure. You seek an absolute. I cannot give you that."

"What's a prophet _for,_ if not to set things straight and absolute?" Came the red-eyed Irken's retort.

"Prophecy is a guess that comes true." Mei explained, "When it doesn't, it's a metaphor. You could put a gun to your head tomorrow and pull the trigger, and then the dream is just a dream, and the prophecy is just a metaphor, and so are you. Do you understand?"

Red felt drained and exhausted from running in circles of thoughts. This stupid prophecy thing was so important that she had traveled through four galaxies to reach them, and only so she could get a vague idea? Posit a hypothesis? He wanted to shake his head and laugh at himself for ever having taken her seriously. "... You said I could put a gun to my head and your prophecy would just be a dream, right? Well, doesn't that contradict what you said about fixed points in time?"

Instead of being offended, Mei smiled, "If you were to do that, Red, you would still fulfill the prophecy."

" _How_?!" Red didn't like being caught off-guard, and he liked being proved wrong even less.

"To extract yourself from the equation at this point would mean that you will lose. The resistance would fall, and all creation will perish as I said." She explained, "Prophecy reveals itself reluctantly and in time. Do not look too hard for it; prophecy will find you. It always does."

Red rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like, "yeah, okay" under his breath before he started to exit the room. Purple lingered a moment longer than his partner, staring at the Yu Jian as if she was calling to mind something on the tip of his tongue but could not find the proper words for. Mei nodded her head toward the door, and Purple noticed Red was no longer at his side. He left the room with a strange feeling he couldn't name.

"I don't think they believe you, Mei." Buir commented with a frown, observing the two Irkens disappearing down the hall before he closed the door and sighed.

"Prophecy does not care about belief. As I said, it attends to itself." Her smile faded. "I wish I could have told them more. There is so much pain ahead; for all of them… I could not bear to make it worse. Some days, my friend, I wish that I were without eyes at all."

* * *

"So, any luck with the Quantum Engine yet?" Red asked, peering over the Captain's shoulder.

He sighed, "I think I've been able to work out some of the necessary equations, but nothing really groundbreaking. A few I'm fairly certain of, the others are still just theoretical. We've managed to get an enhanced photogrammetric three-dimensional model up on the holo-projector. Thing is, it's hard to understand how something works just by looking at the outside."

"Have you done a quantitative analysis of the algorithms used in normal versus hyperspace engines, and looked at the differences?"

"There's no sign of exponential growth or sequential factorials… at least, none that I can find."

Red frowned, "Do you reallythink this model was engineered on a completely different set of parameters? Why would they do that?"

"Maybe Quantumspace has distinct constants. Like a different coefficient of gravity or maybe special modifications are necessary to establish a sense of internal equilibrium." The Vortian tried.

"Well, have we at least figured out how to _remove_ the damn thing?"

Lard Nar smiled, "Yes. Sally's running a simulation just to be sure."

" _That's_ some good news."

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot to ask how your meeting with Mei went."

Purple responded with an uncomfortable expression and Red just rolled his eyes and sighed.

Lard Nar looked at the Irkens expectantly. "Well, what'd she say?"

"Pfft. Nothing that mattered." Red replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't know about that, Red…" Purple ventured, "I mean, maybe the whole 'prophecy' thing isn't about telling you where to go, so much as realizing what it means when you've gotten there."

"I'm still skeptical."

"I'd expect nothing less." Purple smiled, then turned his attention to the Vortian. "There's a 'man in between' waiting for us with a message of some sort. Supposedly, we have to deliver it to someone who was around when this whole thing started, though I don't know _how_ that's possible. According to what Mei told us, this person can tell us how to end it. To find him, though, we have to listen to something we can't hear."

"That's rather… vague."

"No kidding." Red replied, "I don't put much stock in seers. If she were _really_ as psychic as she claims, she would have known about _Them_ a long time ago and none of us would be here. If she _has_ been aware of _Them_ for some time, it means that she sat by and watched. It means she watched _us_ suffer while _the rest of the universe_ suffered, too. No one wired her jaw shut to keep her from crying out," he spoke bitterly, "nobody made her watch the death of whole worlds with her hand on the 'detonate' button because the only person she cared for was convulsing on the floor, poisoned. If she _has_ known all this time and kept herself hidden away behind that Paladin, I really don't give a _shit_ about what she has to say."

Neither Lard Nar nor Purple knew how to respond. They both thought Red's anger was justified in the hypothetical context. She really would have been the only party capable of seeing the situation from an omniscient point of view, possessing the ability and means to step in. They both really hoped, for everyone involved, she'd somehow missed the big picture.

Red sighed in an effort to quell his frustration. "Let's go and see if we can convince Tak to help us. She might be able to see something we can't."

"Why don't you stay here and work on fixing the engine?" Purple suggested, "I'll go and see Tak."

"Are you sure you want to go alone?"

"I don't mind it at all." That wasn't the whole truth, but it was enough to satisfy them both. "You go on and play with the time-space continuum. I'll be back." He said with a smile, placing a kiss to Red's forehead.

Red just smiled, "Thanks."

Purple knew his partner liked to fix things. It was the talent that he felt yielded the greatest degree of utility. Making things work again gave him a sense of satisfaction and overall completion. He'd always been most secure in an accomplishment when it was a tangible repair. That way, he could _prove_ that he'd done something. Fixing problems in their relationship or aiding someone in their personal life were things he felt less confident in, since there was really no means of proof that he'd mattered at all. Only recently, after having physically experienced a few of Purple's memories could he say with any certainty he'd really done anything that _helped_ the other Irken. Red was upset by what Mei had told him, even if he hadn't understood it very well, and Purple figured that the best thing for him right now would be giving his partner something tangible to fix.

* * *

"… What are _you_ looking at?" The sedated Irken asked, trying to sound and look threatening as she glared in the direction of the room's other occupant.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"No." She replied tersely.

"Great!" Was the enthusiastic response that earned an eye roll from Tak, "Why do hotdogs come in packages of _eight_ and hotdog buns come in packages of _ten_?"

Tak blinked her violet eyes several times, then tilted her head slowly as an expression of total confusion manifested on her face. "I… I don't know."

"It's like, _totally_ WEIRD!"

" _Irritating_ , is what it is." She replied crossly before muttering, "Kind of like _you_ " under her breath.

Shloonktapooxis did not appear to have heard her response. Either that, or he wasn't bothered by it. Tak groaned, sighing in frustration. All she had to do was play along for a little while and convince them she was on their side. She _knew_ they were hiding something, and she knew it had to do with the former Tallest. Once she lulled them into a sense of security, once she had gained their trust and proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was totally and completely behind their actions, she was certain that it would be no effort at all to extract the information she needed. What she had on Tenn alone was enough to have her record cleared and any pending charges dropped. If she managed to _capture_ and secure the Irken, the Tallest would no doubt be grateful, and possibly even grant her the status of Invader. At the very least, she'd be made an Elite Soldier, if not a full Officer.

The more she could get on the Resistance, the better. _She_ would be the reason they were defeated and Irk's victory in the pursuit of galactic conquest would be all thanks to _her_. She couldn't help the small smile from forming on her lips. Deception was the game Tak played best.

She heard the door open, but didn't bother to take her eyes off the ceiling. It wasn't like any of these rogue misfits was anything more significant than the eggshell-white paint she'd previously been focused on.

"…Is this a bad time, Tak? I can come back later if you don't feel up to talking."

Tenn's pulse quickened and her focus snapped in the direction of the impossible, unmistakable voice. The tall Irken in the doorway was not in his usual garments, but she recognized him instantly. There was something fundamentally different about his presence, but her head was spinning so quickly that she didn't have the capacity to isolate and process anything particularly specific.

"Hey, Purple!" Shloonktapooxis greeted with a large smile, "How ya doin'?"

"Not so bad. A little weirded out, but I can handle it."

"Did that psychic-lady tell ya somethin' _spooky?!_ " He asked with strange excitement.

Purple gave him a quizzical expression, "I guess you could say that. Kinda vague. Vague makes _everything_ spooky."

" _COOL!_ "

"So, Tak," he said, turning his attention to the slack-jawed Irken, "I was hoping you had a minute to talk. Is this a bad time?"

After a moment of stammering sounds, opening and closing her mouth several times in frustration without forming any semblance of organized language, she finally managed to force out, "I want to know what's going on! I want to be told _where the hell_ I am, what I'm doing here, and _why the fuck you aren't dead!_ "

Purple nodded with no distinguishable expression. "Very well. Shloonktapooxis," he said, "if you wouldn't mind letting Tak and I discuss things in private."

The first-mate cringed, "I don't know, that might _not_ be such a good idea…I mean, she's kinda unstable and ain't her brain's still all scrambled or somethin'? No offense, or nothin', lady." He said apologetically to Tak before returning his focus to Purple, "It's risky."

"I can handle a simple conversation. She won't harm me." Purple replied. "Right, Tak?"

She just nodded dumbly, not sure what she was agreeing with.

"We're good. By the way, Shloonktapooxis, did you get to telling her about how good you are with a rocket launcher?" Purple couldn't help but grin. _'God, I sound just like Red'_ he thought inwardly.

Shloonktapooxis returned the smile, "Nope! I forgot all about it! I _REALLY_ like when stuff explodes! It's awesome! I used ta make explosives, ya know. I'm real good at handling 'em, and even _better_ at knowin' how ta use 'em!"

"I think she's heard enough." An observation that was pretty clear from the look on Tak's face.

"Okay! Well, I'll see ya, then! Bye guys!"

"Sorry about him… he can be a little _too_ enthusiastic sometimes. Okay, well, _most_ of the time,"

"Tell me what the _hell_ is going on." Despite her best efforts, her shaking voice betrayed her.

Purple drew an empty chair away from the wall and moved it to achieve comfortable conversation distance with the other Irken. "We found you stranded, in a custom built cryo chamber powered by your SIR unit. Mimi is all right, by the way. We've had her inspected and she's been in standby mode. Your ship's hardware was sabotaged. We can show you whatever proof you want of that. Right now, you're in an underground medical facility used by the resistance. We were on our way here when we picked up your mayday. You're here because if we hadn't taken you in, you would have died. Does that much make sense?"

"You're _not_ my Tallest. What are you, really?" She seethed.

He sighed heavily, collecting his thoughts. "Tak, what I'm going to tell you is not easy. It's not pleasant all. But I am – or _was –_ rather, your Tallest."

"Red and Purple are _dead_."

"I can go put on the armor if you want. If that's what you need to believe it, I'll put that horrible thing back on for however long you'd like. I'd prefer not to, as there are really only one or two things I can think of off the top of my head that I actively hate more than that thing, but I will." He replied seriously, "Red and I are _very much_ alive. All the things Tenn spoke to you about were true. Nothing is what it seems. _You_ of all people, should realize that, Tak. You've felt it for a while now, haven't you? That feeling that something's just not _quite_ right. You _know_ how flawed and arbitrary the Irken system is. You've _experienced_ it."

Tak stared angrily at her hands, unwilling to admit the former Irken leader was right.

"Do you know what a Control Brain is, Tak?"

"The ultimate authority, because it passes judgment free from bias."

"It's a glorified computer." Purple replied flatly, "It's just a bucket of bolts. It's not even a proper form of Artificial Intelligence."

"And how would _you_ know that?"

"Let's just say Red had a bit of a rebellious streak that used to get us into trouble back at the Academy. So much so that eventually, the Head Administrator started sending us straight to the Disciplinary Brain. Red was less than pleased with it, and being Red, he decided to do something about it. Long story short, he bribed one of the janitorial drones to swipe a copy of Brain's internal schematics. They Academy actually runs on a completely separate server. You know the Central Control Brain is supported by two others. Those two refine, format, and compress the data that gets processed by the larger one. There's one brain that monitors the status of Invaders, one for the military, which actually has a _weird_ system Red couldn't make _any_ sort of sense out of, one for drones, and one for the Hatchery. Well, the Hatchery has two. One that's dedicated to processing and cataloging births, and one that's strictly responsible for the actual birthing process. The two-part system was instituted after Zim was born… for obvious reasons. Anyway, the point is, everything _but_ the Academy and the military is connected to a network. Red calls it a "tree" or something. All that is his area. I'm not so great with it. But, do you follow do far?"

She crossed her arms, "Yes. If you've got a point, make it. _Fast_."

Purple shrugged, "We bribed the janitor, got the specs, and found out it wasn't an AI. Just a program. Red wrote his own, we snuck into the Admin's office after hours, and after the Brain's nightly maintenance sweep, he removed the board with the old program and swapped it with his during the five-second shutdown. No one noticed, and we never got stuck on janitorial detention duty again. If it isn't obvious, Tak, the Brains are made to be manipulated. They're _far_ from perfect. Regardless, it's _just_ a piece of technology. The Brains are only as intelligent as the idiot who programs them. Without the capacity for intellectual thought or expansion of intelligent parameters, it's evolutionarily stunted, so to speak. You _really_ think the Brain was right in telling you to wait another seventy years to re-take your Invader Exam, when you never even got to take it in the first place?"

Her mind was trying to take in too much at once, and the shock of finding her deceased former leader alive and well was incomprehensible. The knowledge he'd just dropped on her as if it were light as a feather hit with the grace of a thousand bricks. She felt as if she'd taken a blow to the stomach; her eyes stung painfully and it was getting hard to breathe.

"Tak. Listen to me. _Listen_. Can you hear me? Nod if you can hear me." He said in an even but firm and somewhat urging voice.

She looked at her former leader with eyes wide in childlike confusion. Everything was speeding up and beginning to get fuzzy around the edges. It felt like someone had sucked all the air out of the room. She nodded slowly.

"Lie back." He said, standing up, and proceeded to calmly rifle through he metal tray beside her bed.

She heaved for air but her lungs did not inflate. Upon this realization, she felt panic in her chest and her limbs went numb for a moment. She gasped desperately to no avail, grasping the edge of her cot desperately as everything spun and blurred. This was what a vacuum felt like. Her lungs burned fiercely, and she would not have been the least bit surprised if they turned inside out and exploded. She heard a sound, but couldn't make out anything distinct. It was from very far away and all she could see were blurs dissolving rapidly into black.

Suddenly, she felt a rush of air in her lungs and she gasped, her shocked eyes open wide. She breathed deeply and her chest heaved as her oxygen-deprived lungs greedily sucked in air. She closed her eyes and tried to relax as her respiration rate slowly reached normalcy again. She was still taking deeper breaths than usual when she opened her eyes again. She was surprised and confused to see Purple standing over her with a serious but collected expression, operating a temporary artificial ventilator. Once her Pak assured them both that she was breathing on her own again, he removed the device and grabbed an oxygen mask. She swatted it away.

"I don't need it." She said, slightly weak.

Purple was about to insist, but he knew it was not necessary. He nodded and set it aside. "Count to ten."

Tak looked at him with a confused expression, "What?"

"Out loud. Count from one through ten, the backwards from ten to one."

" _Why_?"

"Standard diagnostic test of cognitive functions after oxygen deprivation. Please, count to ten." He asked.

She sighed, feeling somewhat stupid, obliging his request.

"What's your name?"

She rolled her eyes, "My name is Tak, I'm an Irken. Designation Janitorial Drone. I have a SIR unit called Mimi. I'm in an underground resistance medical facility because my ship was sabotaged. Would you like me to stand on my head and sing the Irken National Anthem backwards while riding a unicycle, too?"

Purple smiled, "No, that won't be necessary. I just wanted to make sure your brain wasn't damaged."

"I don't know what happened," she confessed, "all of a sudden, I couldn't catch my breath,"

"And the harder you tried to control it, the worse it got." They finished in unison.

Purple sighed with a self-admonishing half-smile, "You're the second person I've done that to this week."

Tak looked surprised, "What?"

He shook his head. "Never mind."

She shook her head and shrugged. "How did you know what to do with one of those?" She asked, nodding toward the ventilator.

"Red's lungs weren't really great for a while." He sighed, "He's not sick or anything, there's been no sign of long-term damage, and he functions like a healthy Irken – well, at least, we _think_ he can. He's fine when we – um… yeah, but I'm always a little careful with him, well, as careful as you can be with that kind of thing, but he's been okay. He hasn't had a problem in a long time."

"I didn't get _any_ of that." Her expression echoed her point.

"Tenn told you that we never called the shots, right?" He asked.

Tak nodded.

"There's a group of other Irkens… well they looked like Irkens, but they were nothing but fucking savages, to be honest. I don't know how many of them there are, but we know they have a leader. Sort of. We don't know how they got there, but they _did,_ and that's all that matters. Almost every decision we made was because _They_ told us to do it."

"And so you just listened? What did they offer you that you couldn't have gotten yourselves by exposing them?"

Purple sighed. "It's all about what you get, isn't it, Tak? That's how you see things. It's a perverted version of the Principle of Utility. Instead of the thing that does the greatest number of people the greatest amount of good, you live your life by pursuing that which will provide _you_ the greatest amount of good, regardless of the amount of harm it brings to the any number of others. You want to know what they offered us in exchange for obedience?" He asked seriously, "They let us live."

Tak did not say anything and waited patiently for him to continue.

"That's the end of the sentence. They allowed us to live." He responded, "Well, that's not entirely true, I should elaborate to clear things up. I did what they told me to do because when I didn't, _They_ hurt Red. _They_ tortured him in ways you can't imagine, and I had to watch. I know how to use a ventilator because _They_ used a drug on him specifically designed to stimulate the part of the brain that interprets physical pain. No one cared about potential side effects. His lungs became vulnerable and prone to respiratory infections. He wore himself down like he always did with guilt and worry and stress, and even with his Pak, he managed to get a cold. The cold turned into something like bronchitis and in a week, it was viral pneumonia. I learned to use the ventilator pretty fast. I also learned how to drain a pleural effusion by myself, because the medical staff would start to suspect something if they found out _how_ ill he'd gotten. Killing us would have been a kindness, and they're not capable of that."

"…I don't understand." She said, feeling sick and uneasy. It couldn't be true… but what if? What if it _was_? The Tallest _had_ tried to kill her. What would stop them from trying again even _if_ she somehow proved herself? Clearly, this strange group would see her as a threat. They had no place for someone like her, and she'd never serve Irkens who'd harm their own kind in such a fashion. Tak was motivated by self-interest, and she'd go pretty far to get what she felt entitled to, but… actions like Theirs were so extreme even she couldn't justify them.

Sighing, he let his robe fall to his elbows, showing just enough of his chest to expose the sternum break. " _This_ is what that armor does. _This_ what you do your first day on the job. You cry and scream and they mangle your body until you can't use it anymore." He covered the injury back up. "Until it's not even a _body_ anymore. Just some disgusting, mutilated prison. The armor's just the cell. You can step out of it for a while, but you'll never leave the grounds.

"You wanted to know what we're doing here. We're in the facility because the doctors are helping us with physical rehabilitation. We're here with the resistance because _They've_ gone way too far, and the universe is at risk. The inoculations you've heard about aren't growth hormones. They're lethal injections. Painful, too. The injection alone will kill you after three days. Induces paralysis followed immediately by excruciating pain. I don't think _They're_ the type that are kind enough to bury you alive, either. Suffocation's too quiet and painless. _They_ like to prolong suffering, but they like causing it even more. I suspect the crematoriums will be very busy in the next few months, Tak.

"It starts with Irk and moves from there. We don't know why but I feel like we're close to an answer. Red and I are here because we couldn't give that order. We _wouldn't_. Something snapped us back into reality, and an opportunity came. Probably the only chance we'd have to get out. So we took it. The odds were _so_ impossible, but we've made it this far. If I die, it's because I went down fighting and not because those bastards decided I wasn't useful anymore. It doesn't end like that because _I_ say it doesn't. People have fucked with my life long enough and it stops _now_. For a while I was scared I might lose Red, but I'm not afraid anymore. I'm not afraid because there is no god in this universe powerful enough to stop me from ripping apart _anyone_ that would take him away from me. That person will find out just how terrible the things I'm of capable are, and they'll find out how far I'm capable of taking them."

Purple's expression sent Tak into a state of genuine fear. There was something terrible in his eyes, something truly vicious with a kind of ferocity even Tak had never encountered. She felt her plan disintegrate and slip through her fingers like dust. There were rumors of grisly things he'd done during the middle of his reign, but Tak had never actually believed that there was any degree of truth to them. "But that… all that stuff was just a bunch of rumors, right? I mean, it's not like you _really_ impaled somebody's arms and gut them with the spider-legs or something, that was just a couple of guards trying to sound…" her mouth fell open when she noticed he was staring at the floor with a terrible self-loathing and an amount of guilt she'd never imagined one person could express as tears streamed down his face in silence, "oh my god…" was all she could manage, covering the jaw that would not close, "that _really_ happened… oh my god…"

Purple just closed his eyes and nodded painfully.

"…Oh my god…" as if they were the only words in her vocabulary, "oh my _god_ …" her breathing started to shake and her lower lip trembled as her eyes felt the unfamiliar sharp sting of tears behind them, " _oh my god_ …"

The tears began to fall, and Tak cried.

She started to cough, and Purple noticed she looked like she was about to be ill. He handed her the bucket on the floor beside her bed just in time.

"I don't expect or anticipate forgiveness." He said after a long while spent in silence. "I don't deserve it. I'm not here because I'm looking for redemption. It's not about Red and I. I swear on both our lives, though, those things we've done… you have no idea how much we regret them. And I'm sure admitting to them hasn't helped win your trust, and that's okay, but to keep it from you would be just as bad. At the very least, you can trust we're honest. If you go back home, they'll find you. They just know how. Once they've got you, you'll be dead. You could have a home here. You could be in a place where who you are and what you do is appreciated. Is there really anything for you back on Irk, besides a Trial?"

No. There was nothing, and she knew it.

Maybe things here wouldn't be so bad. Maybe she'd even come to like it. She thought about Shloonktapooxis and cringed. So maybe she wouldn't necessarily _like_ it. Not right away. She supposed it could grow on her… and it _would_ be nice to be appreciated for once. Besides, she really did have nothing to lose.

"…Okay. All right. I'll do it."

Purple didn't hide his relief. "So, you know anything about Quantumspace?"

She looked surprised. "Yeah. Been working on my own engine. Haven't made one that didn't explode, though."

"If we had a working Quantum Engine, do you think you'd be able to reverse-engineer it?"

"Maybe. I'd probably need some assistants," she said, refusing to use the word ' _help'_ , "but yeah, I guess so. Don't suppose you've got one lying around?" She asked jokingly.

"Actually, we do."

"…Really?"

"Well, it's not _here_. It's on Earth. We've got models and graphs and videos and 3D-renderings… and even more fancy stuff I can't figure out. We've also got a team of engineers. If you'd like to work on it, I'm sure the Captain would let you head the project." It couldn't hurt to appeal to her ego just a little. And Lard Nar would probably welcome the chance to relax.

"Why's the ship on _Earth_? …Oh, _please_ don't tell me you invited that defective little bane of my existence!"

"We figured he's our best shot, since nobody's managed to kill him yet and destruction is what he does best. That large-headed alien child is coming along to keep him in line."

" _Dib_?! Him _too_?! Ugh, this day keeps getting _better_." She seethed.

"He just seemed so… I don't know, sad I guess. I mean, what kind of creature is willing to leave everything he knows behind to fight on the side of underdog in a violent conflict that he knows would put his life at risk, in a place where he doesn't really have _anyone_? The way he looked, it was like he had nothing and _this_ was his one chance to get out."

Tak knew that Dib was generally shunned, but he wasn't poorly socialized. He was intelligent for his species, she had to admit that. It didn't say much, but she'd give it to him. Still, he was _Dib_ , and she wasn't any happier with the idea.

"I know it's stupid to allow a _child_ into battle. It's completely irresponsible to let somebody make a decision that they haven't got the mental capacity to understand. When he asked, though, all I could think about was the call that saved our lives. If these people hadn't given us a chance to get out, we'd probably be dead by now. If he's not compatible with active duty, he'll be stationed on a base. We need all the allies we can get."

She hated this feeling of sympathy and understanding. She hated how much sense he was making. "All right." She conceded. "Can I go work on that engine now? I'm sick of this room."

"Are you sure you feel up to it?" Purple asked, recalling her earlier episode.

"Yeah. It'll be worse for me if I stay cooped up in here."

"Okay." He said, rising to his feet. "I'll get the doctors to come in and counteract the sedatives. Shloonktapooxis is still outside; when you're ready, he'll escort you. And, Tak," he said before he left the room, "thank you."

Tak sighed with a shake of her head. Did this mean she was one of the "good guys" now?

Ugh, it really _was_ the end of the world.

* * *

The psychiatrist tried to coax the frightened alien out of the corner of the room in which he was trying to hide. "Nobody here wants to hurt you. We just want to run a few tests,"

If the patient had the ability to speak, he would have emitted a deafening scream. The look on his face communicated this sentiment just as effectively, though.

"Okay, okay… we _won't_ do the tests. We just want to find out _why_ you're mute. Have you been this way forever?"

Hesitantly, the trembling alien shook his head, indicating that he had not been born without the ability to speak.

"Did you choose to stop speaking?"

As if he was going to cry, he shook his head in the same fashion.

"Was it the result of an accent?"

His eyes welled with tears and his lip began to wobble as he again shook his head _'no'_.

"…Did someone _do this_ to you?"

The patient convulsed before collapsing in a fit of silent sobs, nodding over and over with the word _'yes_ ' on his lips. He appeared to have lost whatever lucidity he'd managed for the very brief talk. The psychiatrist ordered the alien to be sedated and sighed painfully, "You poor bastard, what did you ever do to deserve _this_?"

* * *

"There's still something I don't understand, Mei." The man that never seemed to leave her side began with a reluctant sigh.

She turned her attention toward her companion.

"…Why did you lie to them?"

"I told them what I saw." She sighed, "I did not lie about the things they cannot change."

"Not about the future. I know you would never be so disrespectful in the face of prophecy."

"What about, then?"

Buir sighed, "Yourself. Why we're here."

"The past is of no concern." Mei replied tersely, her eyes cold. "All that matters is the future."

"But,"

"What has passed cannot be changed, Buir." She interrupted, still as intense as before, "They must concern themselves with the present, and I shall attend to the future while I can. When it is no longer my burden, it will fall to them."

"…Have you dreamt?"

She laughed, but it wasn't really a laugh. "I do not need to dream. I have seen enough of the pieces to understand my place in all this. The universe, it seems, is not without a sense of irony."

"You are guaranteed protection; I will not allow harm to come to you." He reminded, feeling somewhat sick.

"Oh, Buir." She said in an affectionate sigh, her frustration gone, "You have a good soul. You have been very kind to me. I might have come to love you, were it in my make."

He nodded, as if accepting a compliment. "I am merely serving my purpose."

She sighed with an expression the Paladin had never seen her display before, "I felt it, though, when I saw for them. I felt what they do, for each other. It was unlike anything I have ever experienced. I could not hope to recreate that feeling. So I will do what I must. Regardless of how short they might have left, I will give them what I can."

"…Did you see them die?"

Mei sighed with a frown. "Yes."

The Paladin wore a solemn expression, "Can it be changed?"

"Yes. It has already been taken care of. Whether these actions will serve to briefly postpone the inevitable or allow them to survive well into old age, I do not know. _That_ choice will ultimately fall to them."

He looked at her with a confused face, "If I may ask, what is responsible for such a sudden shift?"

"I am."

* * *

The Captain extended his hand to the small female Irken, "Tak, right?"

She nodded and shook his hand.

"Good." He said, turning toward the hoard of engineers currently at work, "Listen up! She's running this project now, so do what she says. She's your boss. Disclose _all_ information to her. I've put her in charge for a reason, so don't whine, just _work_. If you think you deserved the promotion, prove it by figuring this out first. Carry on."

Some grumbled, but mostly offered shrugs and sighs and they resumed their individual tasks.

"Red," Lard Nar called, scanning the room for the tall Irken "someone, please tell me those two _haven't_ gone back to their quarters." He said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"We're right here." Red answered, crossing the room's threshold with Purple in tow.

"Aren't you supposed to be _working_?" The Captain asked.

"Yeah. We just hit up the vending machine. I've got an extra bag of chips if you want 'em."

"What, you thought we stopped in to the storage closet for a quickie?" Purple asked, rolling his eyes, "It's not like we disappeared for two hours, or something."

Lard Nar grimaced, "Next time, just lie to me and say you went to the vending machine."

The former Tallest exchanged confused glances.

"But we _did_ go to the vending machine." Red replied. "We took a walk, grabbed a snack, and then came back here. The doctor wants us to get used to walking. We're not exactly great at it and those bone treatments don't make it any easier."

"He just said you were… doing _things_ in the storage closet."

"That was a joke, 'Nar. We were only gone for a half hour." Purple explained.

Red finally understood where the disconnect was happening, and grinned. "Usually, anything under two hours is just foreplay."

The Vortian felt his eye twitch and gave the distinct impression he was suffering from an aneurysm.

"Oh…" revelation hit the tall, violet-eyed Irken, "heh… sorry."

"Hey, Tak," Red offered congenially, "want some chips?"

She seemed to echo Lard Nar's expression.

"Shit," Purple covered his mouth in slight horror.

Red just sighed, "You forgot to tell her, didn't you?"

"With everything else, it must've gotten away from me… I _meant_ to."

"As if the poor girl hasn't had a traumatic enough day _already_." Red shook his head.

The Captain looked offended, "You never care when it's _my_ head you're messing with!"

"That's because it's _fun_."

Purple rolled his eyes and sighed, embarrassed, "I'm so sorry, Tak, I can't believe I forgot to tell you. Red has a really bad habit of scarring Lard Nar for life with horrible mental pictures and innuendos,"

"Oh no," Red stopped his partner with a grin, "this one was _all_ you, Baby. I had _nothing_ to do with it."

Purple gave his partner a very cross stare, which only made his grin wider and Purple more frustrated.

Lard Nar just sighed and turned toward Tak, "They're life-mates."

"…Well, I suppose that answers _a lot_ of questions I've always had..."

"They act like an old, married couple most of the time. It's just _adorable_." He explained flatly, the last word as drained of inflection as Vortianly possible.

"Oh, go ask Spleenk out, already." Red interrupted.

"Ask me out _where_?"

A voice no one anticipated asked from behind the group. Spleenk had a weird habit of showing up whenever they were talking about him. Purple lightly smacked his partner upside the head, to which he whined, "hey!" in response.

"Um… nowhere." Red replied lamely, addressing Spleenk.

The look on Purple's face suggested he'd like to slap him again, so Red pouted in response. Purple sighed, shaking his head. "You're _so_ lucky after all these years that _still_ works on me."

He nodded. "There's _lots_ of stuff that still works on you after all these years." Red replied with a wink.

And with that, Purple gently smacked his partner again.

"Okay, well, if nobody's asking me out anywhere, that means I'm free to ask Lard Nar out to dinner with me, right?"

"It absolutely does." Red responded with a smile.

"Good." He replied with a smile, "So, I know a lot has happened since we talked about it, but I'd still really like to have dinner with you while we're here. Things seem quiet, at least for now. Nothing ever stays like that for long, and who knows when we'll have this kind of time again?"

Lard Nar tried not to stutter, so he held his breath a moment to collect himself before replying. He felt a myriad of emotions all rushing through him at the same time, each one struggling for dominance above the others. He felt an incredible degree of relief and happiness with a hint of satisfaction and more than a little excitement. He felt nervous and unsure, worried that he might be throwing himself into a relationship to avoid dealing with the issues he'd left unresolved from his previous one. He wasn't sure of anything, but when he saw Purple holding Red in his arms, pressing a kiss to where he'd lightly struck the other Irken before sharing a laugh, he couldn't help but call to mind how far the two of them had come. Despite reluctance and miscommunications and uncertainty, they held on. Purple had told him about how their first time had affected Red, and how long it had taken his mate to recover. Not only to recover the trust he'd lost in Purple, but also the trust he'd lost in _himself_ because of the experience. He could hardly believe, as he took in the sight of them, that there had once been a time when the simple clasping of palms would require verbal consent.

They had both been broken in a profound way he sincerely hoped he never had to imagine. They had been broken, but they had fixed themselves enough to make their relationship work. They had supported each other in times of need, but they had come to terms with their own pain on their own time. Nothing between them had ever been easy, but it had always been simple: they loved each other. All the pain and worry and stress they had felt all stemmed from that simple fact. They had brought pain to the one they loved, and it was a natural response to look unfavorably on something that hurt what you sought to protect.

"Yes, um, that'd be nice. I'd, uh… yeah, sure." So much for not stuttering.

Spleenk's smile indicated that the stammer was of no importance, "Great. How does six thirty work?"

"It's a good time."

"Six thirty it is." He confirmed with a nod, "Believe it or not, I actually _did_ have a work-related reason for finding you. Less important, but you know how it is."

"What did you find?"

"It was actually what I _couldn't_ find. Instead of searching for something that's supposed to be in the records, I decided to run a search for _incomplete_ records. After sorting through a mess of irrelevant crap, I found I found _one_ anomaly that might not even be related to this at all, _correlation does not imply causation_ and all that," he explained, "but it jumped out at me, anyway."

"What was it?" Red asked.

"The Intergalactic Guild of Scientific Achievement Award. It's still given out every two years, even though the Scarlet Junction's gone. The list of recipients dates all the way back to the very first guy. It's all there, except for two corrupted entries. It seemed kinda weird to me that the IGS would have done that themselves."

"You think They've got someone in the IGS?" Purple wondered out loud.

"Wouldn't surprise me. I'd be willing to bet they've got people _everywhere_." Red replied.

"Uh, guys… still here, you know." Tak interjected with a frown.

Lard Nar gave a heavy sigh, "I was going to ask Red to brief you on everyone's progress with the engine, since he and Purple have treatments scheduled fifteen minutes ago."

"Ah, shit." The red-eyed Irken cursed, "I'll go through it with her now. Or we could hold off on the treatments for today, I mean, by the time we get there,"

Purple subtly took his partner's hand and tightened his grip reassuringly, offering a comforting glance and a short nod.

Red sighed, "All right. I'll be done in a minute."

"I'm off to see if I can be useful in the psychiatric wing." Spleenk said, "And, 'Nar, I'll see you at six thirty?"

The Vortian nodded.

"Great!" Spleenk disappeared with a look of satisfaction on his face.

"I told you I knew what I was talking about." Purple directed his comment toward the Captain.

The Vortain just sighed with a smile, "I suppose you did. Now, all I have to do is _not_ screw up."

Purple stole a warm glance at Red, though his former co-leader did not notice. "You're bound to screw up eventually. When you love somebody, though, you're not too proud to let them help you get back on your feet. He likes you, Lard Nar. He likes you _a lot_. Regardless of whether you believe it or not, I'm willing to bet he's afraid of the same things you are, going in to this. If I could offer you any advice, I'd tell you to be honest. People like Spleenk are few and far between. He doesn't want to go, so don't push him away because you don't feel worthy. Even if you don't understand what he sees, hold on. I promise, eventually, you will."

"Had some revelations of your own, have you?" Lard Nar asked. He appeared very pleased with the Irken.

Purple nodded with a sigh and a smile, "You could say that."

"I'm glad to hear it." He replied in a genuine voice.

Red was beside him in no time and Purple's hand immediately found one of his. The other Irken, however, gave no indication that he wanted to leave.

"They'll start paging us if we don't show up." The violet-eyed former tallest reminded.

Red exhaled heavily. "All right. Let's go."

"Hey, 'Nar," Purple said over his shoulder before leaving, "if I don't see you before six thirty, good luck tonight."

"You deserve it." Red added with a nod. "I expect details."

"Thanks." He really hoped they couldn't tell he was on the verge of tears. Simple kindness was so rare. He hadn't realized he'd forgotten what it was until those he'd least expected it from provided a reminder. He didn't know why, after all of the literal and figurative explosions they'd been a part of, that neither of them had abandoned him. He hadn't resented their attempts at friendship (well, he'd _tried_ to, at the beginning, but they had been more stubborn than he'd anticipated). All things considered, they hadn't been there very long, and somehow, they'd become an inextricable presence. In a way, Lard Nar thought, they embodied everything that the resistance was about. He had set out to destroy, full of anger and misdirected hate after running into a _very_ inebriated Shloonktapooxis at a spaceport bar.

" _You should, like, start a RESISTANCE, man! That'd be AWESOME! A-and, we'd like, go around blowin' shit up like, 'BOOM' and stuff – 'splosions are NEAT! I_ LOVE _'splosions!"_

He laughed to himself. It wasn't about anger or revenge anymore. It wasn't about _him_. Red and Purple had somehow become the metaphorical glue that held everything together, even when the two felt like they were falling apart. They were damaged and they'd suffered but they'd survived without forgetting how to hope. That was really where the heart and soul of the movement beat. Purple once claimed that Red had no capacity for what Lard Nar had once considered merely a delusion. Hope was more than a desire. It was more than an anticipatory feeling or the expectation of achieving a certain goal. It wasn't a wish. It was a contentedness that sought love over logic. It served as a reservoir could be drawn from in even the direst of circumstances. It reminded even the strongest-willed cynic that no matter how impossible the situation, hope was composed of very real moments. If it was made of something real, how could anyone claim it otherwise? The Captain had all but completely abandoned the notion of hope before the two former Tallest had become part of his everyday life. He should have felt terrified, especially considering how little they knew about what they were against. It seemed illogical. He'd begun to think, though, after the time he'd spent with them, that hope might not be so stupid, after all. Maybe the _real_ stupidity was letting it go.

* * *

"Hey, I know we're late already, but would you mind if we stopped here for a little while?" Purple asked unexpectedly.

Red looked at his partner, somewhat confused, "Sure, it's no problem. Are you hurt?"

Purple smiled, "I just thought it'd be nice to linger for a bit. Get some peace and quiet, you know?"

Red sighed. "I appreciate the gesture, but you don't have to do this."

"I know," he said, wrapping his arms around his partner's neck, letting his head fall onto the other's shoulder, "but I want to."

"What am I gonna do with you?" He exhaled, returning the gesture and pulling Purple close.

"I do believe that's your decision." He replied suggestively.

Red smiled, "Sounds like I'm starting to rub off on you."

"The way I remember it, Red, you started _rubbing off_ on me a long time ago."

"That's two for two so far. Three, if you count the closet joke."

"I'm getting pretty good, huh?"

"You've _never_ been 'pretty good'. You've always been _perfect_." He said, touching a hand to the center of Purple's broken chest. Purple withdrew from the embrace and stared at Red with a confused and somewhat curious expression, antennas flat against his head in uncertainty. Red simply replaced his hand with his lips in the same manner he had so long ago, before locking Purple in a stare. "You're so perfect. Even the parts of you that are broken. I meant that, Pur."

Purple wasn't sure _where_ any of this was coming from, or why his partner felt compelled to call such a memory to mind. "I'm so sorry, Red."

"I don't want you to be." There was no edge in his voice, no resentment or pain. Just honesty and love in his eyes.

"If I hadn't kissed you that night,"

"Who knows where we'd have ended up?" Red interrupted, "What makes you think our lives would have been any easier if we hadn't made that mistake?"

"It took you a year and a half to trust me again."

"But once I did, I let myself trust you completely. In a way, you had seen me at my worst… well, the worst I was capable of before, you know. You knew the ugliest parts of me, and you still loved me. You wanted to feel like you deserved me. I felt the same way, in retrospect. We saw the worst of each other, and the worst of ourselves. Maybe, without having known that, we couldn't have really appreciated the best. So don't be sorry. We might've hurt each other then, but as long as it means I'm here, with you, right now, then I'm _grateful_ it happened. God, why did it take us so long to realize we weren't alone, back then?"

"You sound like me."

"I guess I do." Red replied, his fingers beneath his partner's chin to keep him from looking away. "But to be fair about it, _you've_ done your fair share of rubbing off on _me_ , too." He grinned.

"Can you blame me?" He asked with a mock-innocent grin.

Red just pressed his forehead to Purple's, interlocking antennas in the way he typically did, "What I meant to say, was that maybe being broken was what helped us fit together. Maybe we're not _really_ broken. Maybe, we're just complimentary pieces of each other."

"I like that idea." Purple replied, "Thank you. It means the universe to hear you say that, Red, even though you didn't have to."

Red sighed with a knowing smile. "Can't sneak anything past you, can I?"

"Nope. But that doesn't mean I don't appreciate the effort." He smiled. "I really do. And I'm glad to see you're starting to catch on to my having caught on."

Red had no response, just comfortable silence.

"I'm scared, too, Red." Purple admitted. It seemed as if the remark came out of nowhere but Red understood it perfectly.

Red's posture stiffened and his muscles tensed slightly. "You think I'd be used to it by now."

"Certain medical conditions aside, _everyone_ has a pain threshold. And gratuitous amounts of it are generally unpleasant."

"Unless that sort of thing gets you off, I suppose."

Purple rolled his eyes, "There is too much of a good thing, Red. And the operative word I used was _gratuitous_ in regard to the amount. Pain's a survival instinct, you know that. At _some point_ , evolution's going to kick in."

"What about the third principle of sentient life?"

"The ability to override reason and evolution and sacrifice oneself?" He asked, "Are you really trying to compare self-sacrifice to the concept of… what the hell _are_ you trying to compare it to?"

He sighed, "I don't know. I'm just frustrated, I guess. I just want be done with all this."

"After this, it's all downhill. It'll be a long night, and I'm not looking forward to how much it's going to hurt, but we'll be going through it together. At least the bone treatments are _working_. It'll take months if we don't have this procedure. I wish I'd get over myself and take the painkillers. I wish I'd just suck up another week of treatment and not have them repair the tendons _while_ they inject stuff into my bones because once the anesthesia wears off, it's gonna be fucking agony. But since when have we ever done things the easy way?"

"I thought _I_ was supposed to be the stubborn fuck."

Purple laughed. "Well, the position of _'bullshit cretin'_ was already occupied, so one of us had to do it."

"Oh, positively I'm dying of laughter." He replied dryly.

"It's okay to laugh on the inside, Baby, I know I'm just too good to keep up with sometimes."

He sighed, "You have your moments. I'll give you that." A moment of silence passed, "I'm scared, Pur."

"Me too. Promise you'll be there when I wake up?"

"Right beside to you, like always. Even if I have to get there on my own."

Concern flashed in Purple's eyes, "Don't do something stupid, Red. _I_ _mean it._ I don't want you to hurt yourself. I need you in one piece."

Red didn't reply. "It depends on the circumstances." He sighed.

"Well, that's the best I'll ever get." The violet-eyed Irken conceded and sighed, "We might as well get going. The sooner we get it over with, the better."

"Okay," he said, gently nuzzling against his partner, "We'll be all right."

Maybe he was just exhausted, but he could've _sworn_ that there was something in Red's voice that sounded like he genuinely meant every word.

* * *

Tak wisely decided to bury herself in work, the way most people did when they were desperate to avoid something. Unfortunately, this method usually meant that a multitude of projects would get started, but they either went unfinished or yielded sub-par results. When dealing in things like space-time folds, it usually helped to produce the best result possible.

She did this to procrastinate the one part of the job she absolutely dreaded. She'd tried to pawn it off on someone else, but most of the engineers hadn't been keen on her promotion and naturally, tried to get back at her as best they were capable and forced her to take responsibility.

She groaned. The longer she waited, the angrier she'd become and after the day she'd had, all Tak wanted to do was sit peacefully at her empty table and work out the engine or take a very long nap. If she kept putting the detestable task off, she would get neither.

Sighing, she approached the vid-phone and called into someone named "Sally" like she'd been told, and then asked to be patched through on a protected channel. She could feel herself tense as the call went through and she struggled to prevent the frustration on her face from manifesting outwardly.

"Did you figure out the," the voice began, before stopping short as its owner skewed his expression, "Tak?"

"Zim. It looks like you remember who I am this time." She couldn't keep the hard edge from her tone as she glared at the face on the screen.

"You decided to sign on? I have to say, I'm surprised."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't exactly what _I_ planned for."

"So… uh, is there a reason you're calling us?" Zim asked. "Not that it's a problem," he quickly added on, seeing the anger on Tak's face, "I just wasn't expecting _you._ The Talle- I mean, Red and Purple said they'd call so I'm just a little... um… heh…"

She rolled her eyes with a sigh. "They've got some kind of treatment. I don't know much else about it."

"Ohhh…" Zim understood before shuddering.

"Anyway, I called to tell you we've figured out how to remove the tracking device without setting off the self-destruct or compromising the engine. I'm sending over the list of tools and components you'll need, as well as detailed instructions. If you've got a problem, or if something comes up, just call… _before_ you make it worse."

Zim was about to argue, but he closed his mouth, realizing that he couldn't really protest. "I will call once we have disarmed the engine. Is there anything else?"

Tak looked slightly curious, "No. No, that's it."

"Over and out." He sighed and the screen went dark. He'd already knownhe was incompetent; he did not need her to remind him. The one thing you could always count on no matter where in the universe you were was that if you ever forgot what you were, someone else would remind you. Usually, it would be a sentiment conveyed as tastelessly as possible.

He didn't have time for self-pity. Right now, he had an engine to disarm. He would wait though, for The Dib to return from the bathroom and for Skooge to wake up from the process of having his receptors removed. Zim cringed, remembering how it had felt when he'd been in Skooge's place. He hadn't been able to use sedatives (no matter how fond of the little robot he would never admit that he'd become, there was no way he was going to trust GIR with performing the equivalent of brain surgery… or _any_ surgery). Zim had endured almost every injury one could, and _nothing_ could have prepared him for what it had felt like when he reformatted his Pak's operating system and his receptors went offline.

He'd had the computer run a comprehensive neuroendocrine panel (mostly to test for what chemicals the Irken body made naturally) and the Dib-Pig had actually been quite helpful by giving Zim a blood sample to use as a constant. Humans and Irkens undoubtedly produced different amounts of different chemicals, but he had hoped it would be useful to at least have something they could use to discover any chemical similarities. Pharmaceuticals were not something Zim had really investigated, and though Dib's knowledge was limited at best, they hoped that they could find a drug (or what was necessary to _make_ a drug) that could ease the transition for the other Irken.

"I have finished my analysis of the two samples, Master. The test results you ordered are on your screen."

"Thanks, Computer."

"Are those the test results?" The familiar human's voice asked as he approached the large monitor.

"Yep. And instructions for disarming the engine." Zim nodded.

"Well, we should probably do one at a time." Dib replied, "Computer," he began curiously, "can you make a graph of the chemicals common in both humans and Irkens, and compare how much is present?"

"If you ask nicely."

Dib was caught off guard for a moment. "Um, please?"

"All right. I mean, I _guess_ I could throw your stupid little graph together." It complained, almost as if it were rolling it's absent eyes. "There it is."

"Thanks." He said, taking a closer look at the bar graph. "I've got an idea, but we need to run one more test to be sure."

The Computer groaned.

"I'm thinking that if we get a sample from Skooge while he's unconscious, we'll be able to see if there are any chemical changes _before_ and _after_ , or if it's just a change in how these chemicals are processed. Then, we'll have the computer take a look to find out which human compounds are similar. At the very least, we should be able to find something that both species have in common related to stress."

"I'll go get the sample." Zim replied. "…Have you increased the working capacity of your brain-meats lately?"

Dib smiled in a strange way, "There were those three weeks when I actually studied for school. But that was a month ago."

"You are truly something strange, Dib-Thing."

"Yeah," he sighed, "strange."

Zim had felt that something was slight off with the human, and more so than usual. He didn't understand why the transition had occurred so suddenly; as if Zim's personality change had triggered one of Dib's own. Strange.

He shrugged it off and exited the room, leaving an uncharacteristically forlorn-looking Dib behind.

* * *

"Hey, Phthalo," the tall, green-eyed Irken started, "did you get the memo from the head of security?" he asked as he collapsed on a newly reupholstered sapphire-blue sofa with a drink in hand.

"No." He replied halfheartedly, not bothering to turn and face his co-leader.

"Um… are you okay?" Cyanine asked, just the slightest note of concern creeping into his voice.

Phthalo sighed, covering his face with his hands, "I haven't been 'okay' since the second we became the Tallest, Cy. I've had to take all the mirrors down because I can't stand to look at myself anymore. I wouldn't know my reflection if by some unfortunate circumstance I _did_ happen to see it. Any day now, I'm going to order thousands of Irkens to their deaths, and they're going to accept it with open arms because they think we want to _help_. Maybe _someday,_ after long enough I guess I could lose myself enough to handle the executions, but _mass murder_ of our own people? How can… how the _fuck_ do you live with that? I sit here, day after day with more and more blood on my hands and you want to know the worst thing about it?" He continued, never even looking at the other, "I'm alone."

Cyanine stared at his cup, "…They gave you another one to put down today, didn't they?"

Phthalo laughed bitterly, "He seemed like an okay guy, too."

"I'm… I'm sorry, Phthalo."

"No, you're not." He replied, "You're just glad it wasn't you."

"That's not fair."

"Wake the fuck up, Cyanine. Look around. If _anything_ was fair, we wouldn't be here."

"I'm just… I'm dealing with it the best way I know how. I don't wanna be a part of this, but I don't want to cost you your life and I'd like to keep mine, too. We can _still_ make this the job we've wanted… we've just got to learn how to, well, tune out the bad parts."

"Are you insane?" He asked, facing Cyanine, " _Tune out the bad parts_?"

"It sounds terrible, I know that… but if we keep going like _this_ , we'll lose our minds. I don't think they'll need us alive if we're not useful to them."

"Why do you even _care_? I thought I meant nothing to you."

Cyanine sighed, "I'm scared of this, Phthalo. I'm scared out of my mind and I don't know what to do. All I _do_ know is I've got _one_ person who understands what I'm going through, and I can't afford to lose them. I can't have their life in jeopardy because I made a bad choice. Knowing you exist is enough to keep me at ease, but I felt like if I got to know you better, if I connected with you, they'd use it against us."

The other Irken sighed and silence passed between them for a moment, "So, what was it about that memo you were talking about?"

"It doesn't matter." He answered quietly.

The other Irken just shook his head with a cold expression, "Who'd we kill _this_ time?"

"…Look, Phthalo, maybe… maybe we got off to a bad start. I know you meant well, but after everything that happened with the "fitting" or whatever they call it, I just wasn't ready to trust anyone. I didn't want the person closest to me, which was you by default, to betray me, or something. It probably sounds stupid, but I guess I just wanted to survive on my own. I think you're right, though. I think we're gonna need each other, if we want to get through this."

Phthalo gave his co-leader a suspicious look, "What are you trying to say?"

Cyanine sighed, exasperated, "…I'm sorry. I don't… I don't think I want to do this alone, anymore."

The Tallest with deep blue eyes just sighed, "It's all right. I didn't mean to attack you like that, it's… I had a really long day."

"Well," the other began, uncertainty in his voice and on his face, "do you, um, maybe want to… talk about it, or something? I-I could listen, if you want – but you don't _have_ to, I just thought that maybe it might help…"

Phthalo looked his co-leader over, "Sounds like your day wasn't much better than mine."

"I can't decide that until I know what _yours_ was like."

Phthalo wondered why he was having such a hard time communicating something he felt so strongly. "I feel sick inside." It was the only way he could describe something close to his inner turmoil, "I… they made me do something I- I can't," his face paled and he slowly began to look ill.

Cyanine observed these signs very quickly and without a word, he hooked an arm around his co-leader and got him to his feet. One of Phthalo's arms hung loosely across Cyanine's shoulders as the green-eyed Irken supported his weight and quickly helped him to the bathroom.

The world around Phthalo spun as vertigo overtook him and he breathed heavily as he struggled to hold back the rising nausea. Cyanine was staring at him with worried, confused, eyes with his antennas flat against his head, for some reason. He hesitantly sat beside the sick Irken and reluctantly patted his shoulder,

"It's all right. I won't say anything to anyone."

Phthalo had already been on the brink of tears and he clenched his eyes shut, trying to ignore the uncomfortable sickness in response to Cyanine.

"…I-It happens to me, sometimes, too. When I can't… sometimes, I can't get something out of my head, and the more I try, the more it makes me sick. I can't make it go away and it hurts so much that I don't know what to do and I can never hold it in. …That's – that's why I've been so mean to you all this time. I was afraid to let you see me fall apart. Please, Phthalo… don't do this." He admitted, hand sitting awkwardly on the other's shoulder.

Phthalo shuddered and took several harsh, deep breaths as he began to cry. He retched a few times and finally allowed his body to force out whatever it found necessary. He breathed heavily, still crying steadily once he had finished and noticed his co-tallest was still present beside him, still with his hand on his shoulder. He felt Cyanine's presence disappear without opening his eyes and cried harder, inwardly chastising himself for having been so stupid. He felt something cold behind his neck and looked up in confusion. Cyanine sat down again so he was at eye-level with the other Irken, offering him the Irken a glass of the equivalent of water to rinse his mouth before a small tablet activated by saliva used in place of toothbrushes. Once he'd relaxed a bit and his breathing had grown steady, Cyanine handed his co-ruler the cup of soda he'd brought and instructed him to drink slowly. There hadn't been anything to clean up, so the two Irkens sat in silence.

"I'm sorry." Phthalo offered, not meeting Cyanine's eyes.

"Never apologize for automatic bodily reflexes." He replied, earning a short hint of a smile, "It's not something I haven't done already."

A long silence filled the space between them until Cyanine broke it with a sigh, "So, I think it's safe to say that your day was worse than mine."

Phthalo actually laughed, "Maybe just a little." He stared into empty space and the smile faded. "…They made me do something today. I thought it was just a regular execution, they didn't tell me anything different than they usually do – that sounds _so_ fucked up," he sighed, "anyway; they brought me to one of the prison blocks and put a syringe in my hand, then told me all I had to do was hand it to the guy inside. That I had to give _him_ the syringe, and they brought somebody over but there was a bag over their head. All I had to do was get him to inject the other prisoner, the one with the bag over their head, and then I could leave and you wouldn't be harmed.

I knew something was weird, but I didn't try to think too much… it's easier that way. I didn't know anything about him, but he really seemed nice. So I finally convinced him to take the thing, and you could just tell it was killing this guy to do what I told him, but he did. I've… I don't know what kind of drug it was but the prisoner started convulsing so hard they fell over, and with all the thrashing, the bag just kind of came off.

I've never seen anyone look like he did, when he saw who she was. Pain and horror and desperation like… I don't think _we_ know the kind of shock I saw on this guy's face. He tried to reach her but he couldn't, all he could do was watch her cry and convulse and bleed to death. There was _so much_ blood, Cyanine… her eyes, her mouth," he cringed, "fingernails… it was…I don't even know how to describe what it was. She looked like she was screaming, but she never made a sound. All I could hear was that poor man. He's on his way to the Void. They'd have kept him here, but he's too crazy now. Doesn't know who he is anymore. I made him kill his mate. My hands never touched either of them, but I feel like I'm covered in blood."

There are certain moments when _"I'm sorry"_ just isn't enough. Cyanine understood that this was one of those times. At a loss for options, the green-eyed Irken reached his arm around the other. Were he not emotionally drained and traumatized from the experience he'd described, Phthalo might have found such an action odd. It didn't matter, though, and at the moment he didn't care why – just that it was _some_ form of comfort and it was there for him to take. It was more than he'd had since the start of this nightmare and he was so, _so_ grateful for it. He abandoned the cup of soda and moved closer to Cyanine.

"You're gonna be okay, Phthalo." He said, "We'll get through this."

The aforementioned Irken exhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a moment, "You know something, Cyanine?"

"What?"

"I think I understand why they went off and got themselves killed. Red and Purple."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Because right now, I sure as shit would rather be dead."

Cyanine pulled the other closer, "Right _now_?"

Against everything he'd ever been taught, Phthalo instinctually sighed and nuzzled against the other's chest, even though they were both still dressed in the armor. He recoiled when logic kicked in, his face flush with embarrassment, "I'm so sorry, Cyanine, I don't know _what_ that was… it just sort-of happened, I guess – I wasn't thinking, and I'm so fucking _tired_ ,"

"Like I said," the other smiled, "never apologize for automatic bodily reflexes."

"Still, it was… inappropriate of me. I shouldn't have done that."

"Did it make you feel better?"

"…Yeah." He admitted. He was already humiliated and it wasn't like his face could turn a darker shade of green.

"Then don't worry about it."

Phthalo was confused by the honest expression on his co-ruler's face.

"I mean it… it's okay." He said, pulling Phthalo into the same position as before. "Just _relax_."

It took a little while, but eventually, Phthalo felt himself calm down.

"Still wish you were dead?" Cyanine asked.

"Right now?"

"Right now." He affirmed, "As in: at _this_ very moment."

"…No." He answered, without thinking. He was far too tired to think. He was operating purely on reflexes now; he didn't have the will to maintain any sort of façade. "This is nice. It makes me forget. I have no idea what I'm saying, Cyanine, that was dumb."

He sighed with a smile, "It's nice for me, too."

"Good. I feel like less of a freak."

"You're not a freak, Phthalo."

"Isn't this sort of thing illegal?"

The green-eyed Irken sighed, "I don't see any reason why they'd care, as long as we do what they ask."

"You're probably right."

"Remember a while ago, when you asked me if I'd heard any rumors about Red and Purple?"

"Yeah." Phthalo replied, "You called me a Gossip Whore."

Cyanine chuckled, "Yes, I did." He sighed and paused for a moment. "I've heard some pretty interesting stuff."

"Like what?" He asked curiously.

"A whole lot of people seem to think they were _quite_ amorous with each other."

He gave a tired laugh, "I've heard that, too."

"Just a rumor, though. I mean, it'd be pretty ridiculous…wouldn't it?"

"…Yeah." He sighed, half asleep against the other Irken, "Ridiculous."

* * *

When he'd accepted Spleenk's invitation to dinner earlier that day, he'd felt overwhelmed, but it had been in a good way. Now, he found himself absolutely dreading the other alien's arrival. He was nervous to the point where his hands were shaking and he felt slightly sick. He couldn't put a shaking finger on what it was that had gotten him so upset.

He liked Spleenk; there was no question about that. Despite what he'd seen of Lard Nar, for some reason, Spleenk still liked him. There should have been no problem. He should have felt _reassured_ , if anything. It was too late to cancel now, and the Captain knew he was a terrible liar anyway.

Vort, what the hell did people _do_ on dates? How was he supposed to act? What were they supposed to talk about? There were three things to avoid, weren't there? What were they… religion, politics, and exes, right?

He felt his stomach lurch somewhat at the word _"ex"_. Had _that_ really been the last time he'd gone on a date? Stupid bastard had to go and ruin his first attempted-relationship in something like eight years.

Who the fuck was he kidding?

His head was still a mess. Maybe this was too soon. He needed to calm down and breathe. Take things one step at a time.

There was knocking at his door and the memory of Owaiin on the other side as he nursed a bottle of alcohol flashed through his mind. He stumbled over himself and failed at concealing what would have been a panic attack, had he not gotten a grip on himself before he opened the door.

"I think we should just stay in and maybe get something delivered." Spleenk said, understanding that something was very wrong, "It's way more comfortable. If you had your heart set on going out, that's totally fine, but I just thought you might want something more private."

The Vortian sighed in relief, "Yeah, I think that'd be better. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all." Spleenk honestly preferred nights in, and in a way, this took a lot of the pressure off.

"Okay… well, come in, I guess." He offered, avoiding eye contact like a plague.

Spleenk's features conveyed concern and confusion, "You don't have to be so nervous, 'Nar. It's not like I've turned into somebody else in the few hours you haven't seen me. I promise."

"I know, I just…"

"Look, I know there are supposed to be 'rules' for this sort of thing, but I've never been very good at conforming to authority. Seeing as you're the leader of the resistance movement, I'll take a wild guess and assume that you're not much a fan of rules, either. Nothing is off-limits. We can talk about whatever you want. You can ask me anything. I don't care how inappropriate it is. I want you to feel comfortable with me. That's what this whole process is _for_. It's not about winning me over; you've already done that. It's about getting to know each other better." He explained before adding, "However long that might take."

Lard Nar just sighed and sat down on his bed. Not wanting to take the chance of making unintentional implications, Spleenk grabbed a chair and set it across from the Vortian. Lard Nar stared at the ground for a long time and though he wanted to reach out, Spleenk did not want to make him flinch.

"…Did I do something?"

Lard Nar just shook his head in disagreement, "What the fuck do I have to do to make you _leave_ , Spleenk? I swear to Vort, you wouldn't know how to be insensitive if you _tried_."

Spleenk looked at him, worried and confused, "I was under the impression that was generally a good thing."

"I'm not like you. I'm not strong. I can barely keep my head above water the way things are right now."

"But that's all any of us are doing. Nobody here has it great, and we're all just scraping by. You think I'm not afraid that I could lose my friends at any minute? You think I take some particular satisfaction in knowing that because of me, your idiot ex hurt you?"

"That's not your fault, Spleenk."

"Well, I sure as hell feel responsible for it. Even Red and Purple barely make it through the day. Tenn doesn't talk about it but she's afraid. Ever since she was discharged, she's been in the training wing. I'm pretty sure she _sleeps_ with that sword next to her bed with a pulse pistol under her pillow. I was actually going to recommend she see someone before we ship out again, but that's for another time. We all just take what we can get and hope it's something marginally decent."

"What do you want _me_ for, anyway? What the hell can I offer you, besides a whole lot of baggage, a head full of problems, and former alcoholism that you could possibly _want_?! I've got _nothing_ to give you!"

"I don't want you to _give_ me anything."

"No, you want to _share_ , right?

"At least you understand _that_ much."

"How the fuck can you forgive me for everything you know I've done? I mean, _shit_ , you don't even know the half of it!"

He shook his head, "I don't _care_ about the person you were before I met you. All I care about is the person you are _now_."

"Hate to break it to you, Spleenk, but the person I was is _still_ part of me. You can't erase the person you were or the things you've done. You can leave your past wherever the fuck you want to, but it's _always_ gonna come back and find you again, usually to bite you _really_ hard and make sure you remember."

Spleenk sighed with a pain in his eyes that Lard Nar had never seen a person display before, as if the alien were recalling a wound so deep it had nearly torn him in two. He'd never even seen Red or Purple look at him even remotely like the way Spleenk was looking at him now. Lard Nar could not bear it for longer than a few seconds and his gaze fell to the floor.

"I'm sorry," he started, "I don't mean to push you away… I just… you should be with someone who can give you a normal, happy life. You deserve more than damaged goods."

Spleenk went silent. The air hung stale and dead between them for a long while. "I used to have a daughter."

Shocked, Lard Nar's focus snapped from the floor to the alien across from him. "…W-what?"

"Her name was Senna. After my mom." Spleenk smiled painfully, looking through the Vortian he was addressing, "She was so beautiful, 'Nar. Everybody says that about their kids but she really was _beautiful_. She was… I loved her. I loved her more that I've ever loved anything in my stupid little life. And only two people in the universe know she was ever even alive. That's you and me."

The Captain didn't know how to respond. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. All this time… Lard Nar had never assumed, never guessed, wouldn't have _dreamed_ in a million years that Spleenk would have been a father, and from the alien's use of the past tense, Lard Nar did not assume the story had a particularly happy ending.

"I haven't… you're the first person I've told since," he took a breath and tried not to cry, "I never met anyone I could trust enough to tell… memory's all I have left of her, and I couldn't bear to lose her again. It sounds silly and probably not at all psychologically healthy, but since when do doctors take their own advice?"

"It's not silly at all." Lard Nar responded reassuringly, "And I promise I'll keep it safe."

Spleenk seemed grateful that he understood. "I told you once before that we've all got regrets and done things we're not really proud of. Things that we're ashamed of." He leveled with Lard Nar, "My mom turned out to be a great doctor, and I ended up kicking the panic attacks by the time I got to college. I… uh, I guess I should've expected the urge to party and get laid, given my mom's history and what I know about my dad, but it was fun, so I didn't care. There was a time I'd sleep with _anyone_ , so long as our species were compatible. It's humiliating when I think about it, but I was still just a stupid kid. This girl, Nehai, actually dated me for a while. I was a cheating bastard, but so was she. I think we got together because we wanted to prove we could have an adult relationship… like I said, I was a fucking idiot. _'Fucking'_ being the operative word, I guess." He offered a small smile before taking a breath.

"Nehai got pregnant, and paternity tests confirmed it was mine. She didn't want to keep it. I remember standing in the doctor's office, just staring at the sonogram when it hit me. I thought of my mom. I thought about her life, and what she'd done out of love for me, and that little mass of cells on the screen didn't look like a little mass of cells anymore. I was done with screwing around. I'd always had a direction, but I felt like I had a reason to follow it. I had something _real_. I learned how to love in a split second.

I begged Nehai to keep the baby. I offered to marry her. I was there every single step of the way until my little girl was born. The doctor tried to give Nehai the baby to hold, but she wouldn't take her. She just pointed at me and told the doctor it wasn't hers. I would've been mad, but when I held my baby girl it all just went away.

" _Congratulations! She's a beautiful, healthy baby. What's her name?"_ The nurse smiled toward Nehai.

" _I don't fucking care. Don't congratulate me, all I did was push that goddamn thing_ out _of me_. _"_

" _Senna. Her name is Senna."_ Spleenk replied, as if he hadn't heard Nehai at all. _"Thank you… I just… god, she really is beautiful."_

Once Senna had been taken to the nursery and the doctors and nurses vacated the room, only Spleenk and Nehai sat in awkward silence.

" _Call a lawyer. Make him draw up some papers. The kid is yours. I don't want to see_ either _of you_ ever _again."_

" _Good."_ He'd never have imagined himself able to be so blunt, but he was already out the door with his mobile communicator in his hand and a grin on his face before the thought even occurred to him.

"I had to move in with my mother for a while. Learned what it was like to go through school while raising a kid. All of a sudden, I was my mom, she was my foremother, and my foremother just sat back and laughed while she spoiled Senna rotten. Long story short, I got my post-highest education degree and a job as a profiler. Aside from needed a sitter occasionally, I raised her on my own. She was better than I ever could have been as a kid, I was _so_ proud of her. I've got a picture, in here somewhere. The only one that's left. I was lucky I took it with me… yeah." He frowned bitterly, "Lucky."

"Is she still… I-I understand if you don't want to talk about it anymore." Was really all that the Vortian could manage.

"I'm okay." Spleenk, who had started crying, lied as he tried to collect himself. "I… I should have taken her with me. I knew somewhere, I just had this terrible feeling that _something_ was going to happen and she kept begging me to take her along. I was on a special assignment in the Scarlet Junction, back when it was still there. She wanted to see it _so_ badly. She begged me for a week to take her along and write her off to my boss as a travel expense. It was a ridiculous idea, but I almost did it. If she hadn't had an exam that week, I'd have brought her along. An exam could have been made up. I could've had one of my friends on the force write her an excuse. But, no, I had to try and teach her the importance of responsibility and follow-through. One of us learned a lesson. Life is too fucking short to waste trying to understand it. She used to tell me, _'Dad, if you wait for the universe to make sense, you're going to wait_ forever _'_. I wish I could have told her how right she was.

Hedraretica was attacked without warning. We'd never even been invaded. The Massive just showed up, reached optimal firing distance, and stopped. They dropped an EMP of some kind that killed anything mechanical so evacuation was impossible. It looked like a standoff, but nothing was happening. Nothing happened for an hour. The power must've come back online, because she a message to my portable communicator. _'I love you, Daddy. This wasn't your fault. Be brave, for me'_. Five minutes later, the laser cannon started charging and I remembered what my panic attacks used to feel like. I watched the TV, and those bastards killed my baby girl." He seethed. "I don't mean Red and Purple. It wasn't their fault. They can _never_ know about this. I won't have her death on their conscience."

"…How can… I don't – how can you _not_ hate them?"

"Oh I did. I hated them for a long time. I became a very different person after my home was destroyed. Angry, violent, depressed, sometimes manic. When I'd come home to an empty, dark apartment instead of Senna, I'd start to fall apart. When I couldn't call my mother, and thought about how I'd never hear her or my foremother speak again, it crushed me. The survivor's guilt was too much. All the psych training in the world couldn't have helped me deal with it.

Everything I've ever loved has slipped away, 'Nar. Even my baby girl. I've gotten myself arrested for stupid shit like disturbing the peace, assault on an officer, resisting arrest, drunk and disorderly conduct, and caught under the influence of anything you can drink, snort, huff, smoke, or shoot up. I didn't want to be alive, but every time I thought about killing myself, I'd hear Senna's voice in my head, crying, begging me not to. So I did the only other thing I could. If couldn't die literally, then I'd kill myself figuratively and let nature do the rest.

It was maybe the third anniversary of the day I lost everything. I ended up back in the Scarlet Junction. Don't remember how I got there. I don't remember _a lot_ from that period of time, but I suppose I wanted to make myself suffer by re-living it. I got lost, probably from the drug-induced delirium, and of all people, I stopped and asked a _monk_ for directions. He asked where I was going, and I broke down. Things got kind of blurry after that, but I remember waking up in rehab. The fucking detox was _horrible_. I finished the program eventually. Kept myself on the move, for the most part. Never stayed in one place too long.

I can't pretend to know how you feel after what you've been through. All I can do is ask you to try to trust me. I won't judge you, ever. Not after everything I've done." He sighed and wiped at eyes, no longer crying. "I knew I'd have to tell you someday, if things between us ever went anywhere. I guess I kinda hoped that if I pushed it off long enough, I'd just forget. It's just… the way you looked at me," he admitted, "no one's ever… it's never been like that before. Like I'm something real and whole and beyond what I really am. I loved it. I started thinking after a while that if you saw something like that in me, maybe I'd been preoccupied with the ugliness of old wounds for too long. Maybe if I stopped poking at them and just let them heal on their own, maybe they'd just be scars one day, and I could deal with that. I'd remember Senna, my mother, and my foremother, but I'd stop feeling the pain I'd associated with them for so long. I know it's always gonna hurt, and in a way, maybe that's good because it means that I was blessed for the short time I had them in my life.

I've been scared to let you in and I've done my share of pushing you away, but I look at you and I always come back. I don't want to move fast, I just want to move _forward_. I don't know how or when it happened, but I can't imagine my life without you in it… and I don't want to. And I talk a lot when I'm nervous so I don't panic, and I didn't want to panic earlier so I started talking and I just spilled my whole life story on our first date," he rambled, shielding his eyes with his hands in embarrassment, "I'm so sorry, it shouldn't have gone like this – I didn't _mean_ for it to go like this it's just, one thing led to the next and you just make me feel like I'm perfect and I can't understand what you don't see in yourself. Your ex was a bastard and I would _never_ minimize the damage of what he did to you, but you just… he's got so much power over you, even now. I don't want to live in his shadow, 'Nar. I'm not like him and I'm not ever going to be. I don't want you to expect the two of us to be the same. I won't try to restrict or control you or what you do. I don't want you to be submissive to me in any way, other than something Red would be able to make an innuendo out of. And I wouldn't want you to be submissive _that way_ all the time, either. I want to be on an even keel with you. Those are the only demands I have. I don't care how fucking 'damaged' you think you are."

The Vortian took several long moments to consciously process everything Spleenk had explained. He tried to picture Spleenk as a father. He'd have thought the image an absurd mental picture before tonight, but when he really took the time to think about it, it seemed perfectly fitting. He could easily imagine Red and Purple with a child (dear Vort, help him if they ever found a way to procreate; Lard Nar did not think he could handle the two of them in a single entity – the child would likely use his horns as a solution for teething. He could almost _see_ Red laughing as the horribly adorable smeet (because it _would_ be adorable, just to spite him) gnawed away while Purple would roll his eyes and mutter something about being stuck with _two_ infants) but for some reason he'd just never thought of Spleenk that way. He'd never really thought of him as much of a heartbreaker, either, but then again, Lard Nar supposed he didn't come across as the guy who regularly woke up on front lawns, and more than enough times, without pants.

He couldn't imagine someone like Spleenk falling so far off the deep end. Lard Nar was no stranger to less-than-shallow waters, but at least he'd been exclusive in his choice of poison. Spleenk… someone so timid and cautious, without an _ounce_ of hate for the people who pushed the button that killed his family and his daughter had hated _himself_ so much that he'd pushed every drug and chem into his body, if only to stop from feeling and remembering. Then again, nothing solidifies memory so much as the want to forget it.

He'd been dealt a terrible hand to start with and the river card had made the odds of ever finding a small shred of happiness again astronomical beyond his capacity to fathom – and somehow, he'd managed to get back to sort-of even ground. All that, and he thought Lard Nar was something special. Someone who'd carried that much of a burden had been moved enough by something he'd seen in the Captain it had made _him_ feel a sense of worth. Lard Nar wasn't able to articulate it, but what Purple had told him earlier that day made a lot more sense now.

Then there was Owaiin. He still felt a pang of regret when he thought about it, but like Purple had told him, if _he_ didn't forgive _himself_ , what good would come of Spleenk's absolution? He'd just feel guiltier. Owaiin was no longer a part of his life and he had no intention of _ever_ seeing him again. Maybe Lard Nar needed to stop poking at his own wounds and give them some time to heal without his intervention, too.

"I don't want you to be him." Lard Nar finally said, breaking the extended silence, "The only reason he's in my head is because I hate that you got hurt."

Spleenk offered a small smile, "I think I paid the favor back. Emotional stings are upsetting for a bit, but there's nothing quite as satisfying as seeing your fist imprinted in somebody's face."

He let out an amused half-sigh, half-laugh, "…I'm really glad you told me all this."

Spleenk looked hesitant and unsure.

"I'm not afraid to trust you anymore."

He looked visibly relieved. "I thought you were going to tell me that this was all just a big mistake." He exhaled.

"We've both made _a lot_ of mistakes, Spleenk, but _this_ ," he said, taking two of Spleenk's hands, "isn't one of them."

Spleenk didn't say anything for a moment, "…Can I kiss you?" He asked, almost pleadingly.

The Vortian just smiled and touched Spleenk's face before leaning in and gently pressing his lips to the alien who had not anticipated his action. It didn't take long for him to snap out of the initial surprise and return the gesture.

Maybe they'd never be normal, but in that moment, they both knew that they could be happy. And they could live with that.

* * *

**\- Allusions & References - **

Mei's whole thing about **fixed points in time** is from _Doctor Who._

**The man in between** is a reference to _Babylon 5_ , in which Sheridan has a prophetic vision. It just happened to work for this fic.

Mei's quote, **"prophecy is a guess that comes true. When it doesn't, it's a metaphor. You could put a gun to your head tomorrow and pull the trigger, and then the dream is just a dream, and the prophecy is just a metaphor, and so are you."** is one of my favorite _Babylon 5_ quotes

**Photogrammetry** is remote sensing technology in which geometric properties about objects are determined from photographic images. (Not just a funny word)

The question Shloonktapooxis asks Tak why **"hotdogs come in packages of eight and hotdog buns come in packages of ten** **"** , is from the _Animanics_ episode, _Wally Llama_

The line about **"if you wait for the universe to make sense, you'll wait forever"** is another _Babylon 5_ gem.

**\- Notes -**

Physics and I never got along. I had to do major research for this one.

Mei isn't a _Deus Ex Machina_ character. She's also got quite a history. (If you couldn't tell, history was the major theme of this chapter.)

It killed me to write Spleek's story about his daughter.

Next chapter, the following questions will be answered: what makes Red and Purple's Paks unique _,_ who the "man in between" is (and where he's at), what the deal is with the crazy guy, and what's been bothering Dib. Also, action will happen! From here on out, folks, the ride only gets more intense. The first major reveal happens within the first three pages of Chapter 12.

**Reviews are really, really appreciated**. I want to keep you guys engaged, and I'd like to know if I'm losing steam or it feels like it's starting to lag. I really want to make sure you get what you expect, so it'd be awesome to know what I need to do. By the time I update, I've read each chapter so many times, I'm basically just looking at the words. It'd be nice to know if I'm being effective, or if there are certain places that could use some attention.

Hope you enjoyed it, and much love to all of you!


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Major apology for the lateness. I wanted this up before Thanksgiving, and I couldn't even make a Christmas deadline. I took a job I couldn't handle, and it literally left me no time to do anything. Luckily, it's over, and I'll be able to write on a regular schedule. I can't thank you guys enough for sticking with me. Your reviews kept my love for this thing alive when I was convinced I'd never finish it. This thing has become _the_ story I want to tell, and that never would've happened without the love and support from my readers. Go you guys!

* * *

**\- 12 -**

"I ran all the tests," the Computer sighed, "and I made your stupid graph."

"Good work, Computer." Zim replied.

"A _compliment_? I think my motherboard must be sparking…" it mumbled.

"Would you be happier if I installed some games on you?" The Irken asked.

"After _three years_? Um, _yes please_!" It replied with unexpected force.

"O-okay." He agreed, inserting a red microchip into a random drive, "I hope you like the cherry ones…"

The Computer made the first happy sound in its entire artificial existence.

Dib squinted at the information and he found himself unable to make proverbial heads or tails of the data. There was still too much information. The question was what he ought to focus on. Well, he knew that there was _some_ kind of interaction between an Irken's brain and its Pak, and since the brain was where the whole process began, it was probably best to start there. Where, in the brain, did the processes that issued the commands to create hormones and proteins and such come from? Taking another look, the beginnings of an idea formed in his head.

Hey, Computer, just one last thing if you wouldn't mind…"

It sighed in a relaxed fashion, still happy from the microchip, in very much the same way an Earth cat might react to catnip, "Okayyyyy."

"Show me the graph comparing neurotransmitter levels. Please."

The Computer did as it was asked, and Zim fed it another chip.

"So, Filthy-Pig-Boy with Large Head Full of Cheese and Corn, what exactly are we looking at?"

Dib just sighed, "Neurotransmitter levels."

Zim's expression indicated that he didn't have the slightest _clue_ as to what Dib had said.

"That's the Earth name for them. They modulate activity in the brain. You guys have some _really_ interesting compounds… and for some weird reason, the sheer concentration of your neurotransmitters is off the scale."

"Victory for Irk!"

Dib maintained a flat expression, "No, Zim. That's not necessarily a _good_ thing. More isn't always better."

"Puny Human. You are just jealous of the supreme Irken… brain chemical stuff!"

" _Brain chemical stuff_ …" Dib repeated aloud to himself, looking over the data in front of him. "That's it. That's _it!_ "

"Eh? What's this _'it'_ you speak of? You will tell Zim!"

"Okay, given the height and weight of the average Irken with even the _fastest_ metabolism, the amount of neurotransmitters are twice, if not _three_ times the necessary amount. The Pak and the brain aren't physically connected, so there's no _direct_ intervention. The brain does what it's supposed to do and the whole process happens like it should and then – BAM – the Pak kicks in, because it's programmed to recognize certain chemical signatures, and blocks whatever neurotransmitter the brain is trying to send, so it never gets through. All the brain knows is that something it told the body to do didn't work, so it sends out _more_ , without realizing there are leftovers. The receptors in your Pak are like security guards. The brain eventually learns to maintain a certain threshold, extenuating circumstances aside. Oh, Darwin would _love_ this… you guys, over time, you guys must've developed a _chemical_ _resistance_ to the receptors. Whoever's responsible for the Paks figured it out and the receptors had to be 'upgraded'. Levels _this_ high in a species with your characteristics… this kind of evolution takes _generations_."

"New Irken generations are produced every month. The Hatchery is quite large."

"Grown in tubes?"

"Yep."

"So it's probably been less than a million years, but I'm sure this has happened a few times before."

"Did you have a point, Human?"

" _Yes_. If you remove the receptors from somebody who's got effective ones, and your brain is still producing unhealthy levels of neurotransmitters, without anything to hold them back. Your body's making too many chemicals too fast, and your brain can't figure out what to do. It needs time to reestablish homeostasis without the Pak's interruption. Red and Purple, obviously, are a different story."

Zim cocked his head in confusion, "How?"

"Remember what I said before, about evolution?"

The Irken nodded.

"Your generation must've been one where anomalies started to show up again. I mean, just look at _you_. _You're_ pretty much an anomaly. As it is, your monoamines, well I'm sure that's not what you call them, but they're what modulate excitability… are all at the higher end of what I guess is normal right _now_. Imagine how high they must've been _with_ the Pak. I wouldn't be surprised if _that_ was the reason you were always so… emphatic."

"Not funny, Dib-Beast. But yes, it seems that in few generations prior to mine and many that followed, there were more Trials and such."

"I can't be sure, but based on what little information we have, what I think happened was that when _your_ Tallest were born, they were the type of the Irkens whose brains just naturally produced levels of neurotransmitters too high for the receptors to block, so they've _always_ been functioning at homeostasis. I don't know enough about the Pak to tell you _why_ the thing didn't blow up, or why their receptors always appeared to "work"… maybe it was percent-error, or maybe they were fitted with some new programming. Maybe it was _old_ programming."

"Why would they have _old_ programming?"

"It's not likely at all, I'm just thinking out loud, I guess. Impossible as all the options are, percent-error is the one with the best odds, and _those_ are pretty low. For them to have old programming, the system that formats your Paks - I assume you've got a system,"

Zim nodded.

Dib acknowledged Zim's reply and continued, "it would've had to resort to the last known good configuration, and there's no reason a system would do that unless all the data suddenly got corrupted or the power shorted out. It's not like your planet had a giant power surge when you were born, so it's pretty ridiculous to think they've got old programming."

Zim cringed and failed at looking innocent.

"…I'm not even going to _ask_ , Zim."

* * *

Red blinked a few times, his eyelids heavy and his thoughts seemed stuck in slow motion, still hazy and fogged from the anesthesia. He squinted as the bright fluorescent blur of the ceiling light came into focus, and immediately diverted his eyes away from the offending object.

He wondered if Purple was awake yet. He glanced to his right and saw his partner lying beside him, still unconscious. Red let out a long, grateful sigh; he'd have to make sure he remembered to thank the doctor for allowing them to share a bed.

Still a little euphoric from the medication, he carefully rolled onto his side (very happy that the temporary pain-blockers were still working) and lovingly stroked Purple's cheek, placing a gentle kiss on his partner's lips before his finger lightly traced over his jaw.

He gave a soft sigh, "So much pain… I never knew how you could bear it." He confessed, "You always talk about how strong I am, but I know I wouldn't have survived what you did. They _always_ went harder on you. It's not just me piling guilt on myself again, Baby, you _know_ you got it worse than I did. You loved me too much to let me suffer, so you did what you had to, no matter _how_ ugly it was, to keep me safe. As much as it killed you inside to meet their demands, you never hesitated _once_ , even for a second, when my life was in danger.

"Even when we were kids and I dragged you into things you knew were terrible ideas; whenever something fell apart, you never left without me. Remember that time, back at the Academy… we were taking our final exam in Field Training or whatever it was, and not two minutes into the simulation, I tripped and twisted my ankle? Some hideous bog-dweller launched itself at me, and I panicked. I'd never choked on an exam before then. I sat there and cowered like a smeet – then you pushed me out of the way. You carried me on your back until the simulation let me run again. You had to move twice as hard and three times as fast just to catch up to everyone, but you did. You finished second, and I managed fifth. They disqualified you for helping me. Made you take a full Pak scan, 'cause they thought you were a Defect. Lots of kids made fun of you for it. I don't think they knew how good you were in a fistfight. It sure was funny watching them learn the hard way, though."

Red held his partner tighter, "You always came back for me. Even when you shouldn't have, even when they told you not to. Even when you knew you could be court-marshaled and tried for mutiny. I don't think I ever told you, but I knew you wouldn't leave me at Siranah. Maybe it was just delirium from the interrogations, or bad food, or something else, but I wasn't scared. I should have been. There was no reason to believe you'd put your life and your career at risk to rescue me. But I knew you'd do it anyway. You saved my life. You took care of me and we took care of the planet and you gave me all the credit. My reputation meant that much to you, that you passed up the chance to be a war hero. You knew they'd re-encode me if they found out I violated protocol and went in without air support, so you made me a hero. You're damn lucky I'm a good liar and covered your ass."

He sighed with a smile and held the sleeping Irken close, laying his head on the other's chest. "You're the most amazing person I've ever met. I think I knew the first time we met that I wanted to spend my life with you. I never told you, but when I saw you for the first time, it made my head spin. We were just kids back then, Pur, we had the knowledge they programmed us with and nothing more, but the second I looked at you, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen." He sighed, "I lost that memory somewhere, and it scares me that I forgot something so important. I've been trying to remember more of those things." Red explained.

"We used to kiss when we were little. It hardly seems like something _I'd_ forget about." Red joked at his own expense, "We were just smeets, we didn't know what we were doing, or what it meant. It was completely innocent; we were too young to have _those_ sorts of feelings. I think I scared myself into believing that it never happened, because I never thought about it until now."

The Irken was just _talking_ , stream-of-consciousness without any of his usual filters. There was no need for them right now. He lay in his sleeping lover's embrace and for once, he did not try to organize his thoughts or emotions. He let them float in and out, lazy and continuous. The complex series of systems and equations Red used to define his world faded away, and the answer he always seemed to be looking for appeared without any calculation on his part. It had been there all along, he realized. He'd spent so much time trying to understand _why_ the solution existed, as if he was trying to disprove it because he simply couldn't grasp _how_ he could have solved something so complex. He could see, now, the answer was obvious when reduced to its simplest form. In the end, all it came down to was Purple and himself. It didn't matter _why_ they loved each other, it only mattered that they meant it. So much time he'd spent frustrated over the seemingly illogical calculations for _how_ Purple could love him instead of accepting that the math was right; it had been proved several times, and that they were allowed to be happy.

"Maybe there's no mathematics to love and loss." He mused aloud.

"I think you like those drugs a little too much, Baby." Purple said with a small, sleepy laugh.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Dunno. Been kinda… float-y, I guess, for a while. Sort of awake, but not conscious of it… I'm not making _any_ sense."

"But it's funny."

"Glad you think so."

"…Are you in any pain?"

"Not yet."

"When do you think it's gonna start?" Red asked.

Purple sighed and protectively wrapped his arms around his partner, "I think we've got an hour, at best."

"Don't worry, we'll be okay."

"You should be optimistic more often, Babe, you're adorable like this."

"Pffft. I'm _always_ adorable."

"Are you, now?"

"Why, are you trying to tell me something?" Red asked, raising an absent eyebrow.

Purple laughed, "Well, you've certainly passed your prime."

"Is this where you leave me for someone half my age and buy a midlife-crisis sports cruiser?"

"No. It's the part where I laugh at the image of you as the bitter ex-wife with a yappy purse-size pet, and the insanity of that whole scenario."

"Good." Red replied, in a satisfied voice.

"You know I'd never leave you, right?" Purple asked seriously, catching his partner's eyes as Red glanced upward.

"You mean I don't have to worry about some hot young thing stealing you away from me?"

"Never, Baby."

Red sighed in dramatic relief. "Oh thank _God_ , now I can stop dieting."

Purple laughed along with his partner. "Sweetheart, if you lost any weight at all, you'd _disappear_."

"I like the way you laugh." Red commented, nuzzling into Purple's chest.

"I've always loved the way you smile." Purple confessed, kissing the top of the other Irken's head.

"Hey, Pur," he started, "why haven't I ever told you that before?"

He shrugged, "I don't know."

Red sighed. "I love the way you see the world. I love the way you think, the way you feel things… god, Pur, when I was in your head, it was _so much_ ; I don't know how you stand it. How you can feel so much love, all at once, and _not_ be terrified of losing control. The first time I told you I loved you… I didn't know anything in the universe had the capacity to feel that much, with so much passion. I love how intense you can be. I love how chaos doesn't scare you. So many things, Pur, all the things I've taken for granted and never told you how much I love them…"

"Slow down, Red," Purple chuckled, "we've got a lot of time."

Red's lack of a verbal response communicated what he did not wish to articulate out loud.

"Or maybe we don't." Purple mused, "But I'd like to think so. So let me pretend."

Red smiled.

"That's more like it."

Red's grin widened before he released a sigh and relaxed.

"Hey, Red,"

"Mm?"

"I'm glad we got to talk like this."

"Me too."

"Have you started to feel it yet?"

"A little, in my legs."

Purple held him tighter, "Me too."

"Please don't let go."

"You'll have to pry me off with a crowbar."

Red couldn't help but laugh. "You're completely mad. I love you."

They heard the sound of the door opening and relaxed at the familiar sound of the doctor's voice, "Good, you're both awake. Are you feeling any pain yet?"

"Legs," Purple answered, "but only a little."

The doctor nodded and scribbled something on the document on his clipboard. "I have a proposition for you both."

"Listen, Doc, we like you and all, but that's taking the doctor-patient relationship a little too far."

Purple rolled his eyes and the doctor cringed.

"…Um, I had a proposition of _another_ nature in mind. I've been thinking about something we could do to address the damage done to your hands – more specifically, the amputated fingers."

Purple shuddered violently and Red immediately felt ill.

"Can we just leave that alone? We've kinda gotten used to having two. Yeah, it makes flipping someone off a little difficult, but it's not all that big a deal in the grand scheme."

The doctor offered a curious expression, "With all the gruesome things you've physically endured, I'm not quite sure why the notion of routine amputation is the most upsetting."

It was pretty clear that neither of them were going to discuss the reasons behind the doctor's observation.

"Well, anyway, I don't know how you'd feel about it, but I thought I'd run it by you, so you know about the option. We'd have to start the process as quickly as possible, though.

It turns out that one of our refugees used to be a pioneer scientist in the field of cybernetics. We've hypothesized that we can clean out the scar tissue and naturally stimulate the dead nerve endings. The connections are still there; I'm sure you've experienced "ghost pains". We would surgically attach a perfect cybernetic replica of the bone structure, and since we're going to be re-growing your tendons as it is, it's likely that once the nerves are connected to their mechanical relays, your body will naturally start to make muscle and re-grow tendons. With a special type of flesh-graft, it's unlikely there would be any physical scarring. If you sliced it open accidentally, it would even hurt, bleed and heal like a "real" finger. I like to think of the process as "cybergenesis". "Bionetics" was another possibility, but it didn't quite sound as good."

The two Irkens looked to each other nervously. They appeared anxious to speak, but neither of them seemed particularly comfortable with the notion.

"I'll step out, if you'd prefer to discuss this in private."

Red nodded, "Thanks."

"Just hit the button on the side of the bed that calls for the nurse when you're finished." He smiled, politely leaving them alone in the while, sterile room.

The air was heavy between them for a few moments longer. Neither of them were really able to articulate what, exactly, it was that they wanted to say. Feelings were so much more difficult to communicate… there was never the proper word for anything.

The red-eyed Irken sighed heavily and took one of Purple's hands, lacing their fingers together. He imagined a third, opposable finger where one used to be and went back in his memory, trying to remember how it felt when they were smeets; before they learned that there was a law forbidding the action, and he would kiss Purple on the cheek, just to see him blush, or when Purple would do the same to Red and the Irken would tackle his violet-eyed friend until one of them managed to kiss the other's lips. It was a silly game they only played together, when nobody else was around, because they liked the thought of sharing something that nobody else could have. That was how they had thought of it, at the time.

In the present, Red studied their clasped palms. His eyes followed the zig-zag of their fingers before he took a moment to examine the mass of scar tissue where their missing appendages had been. He exhaled, and with his free hand, ran his two remaining fingers gently across Purple's scarred flesh.

Purple noticed that Red's mannerisms had very suddenly changed. His partner seemed to have taken on the appearance of his old self for a moment. It was that hollow, withdrawn expression he'd seen displayed in conjunction with internal confusion and self-reproach, and it scared him.

"…I lied to you."

Purple was not sure whether he ought to be shocked or stunned, so he settled for a mixture of both. "What do you mean?"

"I never told you about what happened. At Siranah."

"I _know_ what happened, Honey." Purple replied, "You were staking out the Sirani main base, and the mission got compromised, so you tried to use the panic and general frenzy to infiltrate it and call for support. You _did_ that, but you couldn't afford to turn off your tracking beacon. Air support never came, but you barricaded yourself and held out for _two days_ , despite running out of ammo. I came after you, but it took me a week to get you out. I remember the Sirani, and I'd never dream of making you tell me any more than you wanted to about the time you spent there."

"You should have." Red sighed.

"Sweetheart… whatever might've happened doesn't affect anything between us. It doesn't make you a liar."

He shook his head, "But it _does_ , Pur. You don't understand."

"I'm trying the best I can."

Red took a deep breath before he spoke, unable to maintain eye contact with his partner. "I wouldn't let you change the bandages on my hands. I told you it was because they were broken, and I didn't want to risk fucking up the splint. I was honest about that; they broke my fingers one by one and smashed my hands, just like I said. I never told you that when they ran out of fingers to break… they started cutting them off."

"I don't understand, Red… what are you trying to tell me?"

He took a deep breath. "My thumbs were gone long before we were Tallest. The Sirani thought it'd be an ironic gesture. Once you got me back to Irk, they gave me flesh-grafted mechanical ones… nothing as extensive as what the Doc is talking about, but the point is, when we became the Tallest, we knew about the traditional finger amputation before _any_ of the other stuff happened, and I remember how terrified you were. I told you that you'd be all right when I knew you wouldn't. I pretended I was in pain when I wasn't. You suffered, and I lied to you the whole time."

"…Did it hurt? Watching me suffer?"

Red cringed painfully, "More than you'll ever know."

"So how can you tell me that you were pretending? Not only did you _understand_ what I was feeling, you made sure the experience was as bearable as possible. I could never be angry at you for that."

"Do you mean it?"

"You'd be on the floor missing several teeth by now, if I didn't."

Red couldn't contain the short laugh that escaped him. "Good to know. I'll make sure to look out for that."

"Psssh, you'll never see it coming."

"You're probably right." Red sighed.

"So, now that I know your deep, dark secret about your life as a cyborg, anything else I ought to know about you?"

Red rolled his eyes, "You make it sound like I fused with a Megadoomer, or something."

The violet-eyed Irken stuck his tongue out in distaste. "From an aesthetic perspective, I'm quite glad you didn't."

"So you're saying that you wouldn't love me anymore if I _did,_ by some horrible accident of nature or Zim, end up merging with a Megadoomer?" Red pouted, his eyes wide, in the manner of a sad puppy.

"I'm not saying I wouldn't love you, I'm just saying that we might have to... _reevaluate_ our relationship."

"Oh, now I see how it is. I'm just your Trophy Wife."

Purple rolled his eyes, "Yes, Dear. You're my Cyborg Trophy Wife."

"Hey, hey, _former_ cyborg." Red reminded in mock-seriousness.

"Aren't we _both_ already cyborgs by the definition of our species?"

"…Hmm. I never thought of that. I guess we are."

"It doesn't matter _what_ we're called. All that matters is who we are." Purple smiled.

"You're sure you want to do this?"

"And pass up the opportunity for cybernetic appendages?"

"It _is_ hard to resist the lure of cyborg body augmentation."

"We'll have to see if they can outfit us with arms that turn into plasma cannons while we're at it."

" _My_ arms are gonna turn into _gatling laser guns_."

"And I suppose when you get a power-up, you'll fire some sort of death-beam from your eyes?"

"You know me too well."

"You're my life-mate," Purple replied, "I should hope so."

"You win again."

"I _always_ win."

Red muttered something unintelligible against Purple's chest, prompting a laugh from the other Irken.

"We should call the Doc back." He reminded, "And with any sort of luck, we'll be done with all this and back to saving the universe in no time."

"We don't even have a plan, Pur."

Purple smiled. "When has that _ever_ stopped us before?"

Red shook his head and returned the gesture, "True."

"We'll figure it out. The answer is _somewhere_ , and we'll find it."

He exhaled heavily, "That's what I think I'm afraid of."

"What do you mean, Red?"

"We're going to have to be _so_ careful… we can't leave anything to chance from here on out. It's just… I guess it's finally hitting me. I'd started to get used to the idea of not having to sleep with a pistol on the bedside table, but now we're playing Their game again, and we're _always_ at a disadvantage."

"We said we'd see this through to the end. I won't follow you into Hell," Purple said, "but I'll walk beside you."

Red gave Purple's hand a brief squeeze, "Then I'll be all right."

* * *

Tak frowned. This engine was turning out to be _quite_ needlessly irritating. She had all the pieces laid out in front of her. She knew exactly what she was supposed to create. She just couldn't figure out the proper equations that would fit together to create it, and _that_ annoyed her more than anything else.

She was close.

Close only counted in horseshoes and hand grenades, though, and this was neither. She let her head hit the desk with a sufficient 'thunk' and sighed, gripping it in her hands. What the hell was the problem? The stupid engineers who'd made it had added all sorts of unnecessary and excessive modifications that really served _no_ function at all. They only made it harder and more complicated for Tak to narrow down the ones she needed. In terms of pure functionality, it was idiotic.

…Or was it? What if all the 'bonus features' served _no_ function at all, other than to provide an impossible set of algorithms to sort through? If they kept guessing and testing each and every possible set, they'd be there _forever_. It would take even the most advanced computer 7 ½ million years to come up with the answer. She assumed they were running on a rather tight schedule, and the timeframes were just _a bit_ incompatible.

Well, what would _she_ do, if she were the one building the engine? What had her own past models looked like, on paper? Sure, they'd all blown up, but she didn't think she'd gotten _everything_ about her previous attempts wrong. She entertained a notion and paged the Captain.

"Made any progress on the engine yet?"

She sighed, "Not yet – but I have an idea. That's why I'm calling, Sir. I need access to Mimi. My SIR unit." She explained, "I've got my old plans from my own attempts at creating a Quantumspace engine. I'm thinking that if any of the equations happen to coincide, we'll be able to not only figure out what exactly they _do_ , but hopefully, find what equations they work with. We'll also be able to rule out anything I tried that doesn't appear in the working prototype."

Lard Nar sighed, "It's the best idea we've got, so you have my permission to run with it." he continued, "Tenn is Physical Conditioning wing. She'll know where your SIR unit is being stored."

Tak shrugged, "If you say so. Tak, out."

Spleenk raised an eyebrow in curiosity, standing in the open doorway of the Captain's office, "Why are you sending her to Tenn?"

"Come in, Spleenk, the door's open." The Captain said before answering the question posed to him, "Because she's the one with the emergency skeleton key for the facility. Well, the only one besides _me_ , and Tenn's much closer than I am."

"And the _real_ reason is…?" Spleenk asked, taking a seat across from the Captain.

"Everything I just said is _completely_ true!"

"But it's not the _whole_ truth, is it?" Spleenk asked. "That doesn't explain _why_ Tenn has the key in the first place."

"…You know, I _really_ hate it when you do that."

Spleenk grinned in victory, "Good."

Lard Nar folded his arms across his chest and tried to look annoyed, but the expression instead proved amusing to the other alien.

Spleenk tried not to laugh, and failed.

The Captain just shook his head, " _Fine_ , if you _must_ know, I took into consideration what you said about Tenn last night, and how she's not quite back on her feet yet. I thought somebody like her might only get worse if I took her off active duty. She needs to prove something to herself, I think. I'm not sure that girl's ever been afraid in her life, and after what she went through on Vort… we need her to feel secure and competent."

"You're getting more perceptive."

"Thanks, but it doesn't take a genius to figure that out." The Captain sighed and shook his head, "You wouldn't believe it, Spleenk… her insides were burning and she wouldn't let herself cry."

Spleenk sighed, "She cares about how other people see her, and she's spent a long time earning her reputation."

"I want to make sure she stays confident, so I reorganized the command staff a bit and I've given her the position of Chief Security Officer."

"Seems perfectly reasonable to me. You'll have an excuse to send her to for a psych session, too. Call it a ' _routine psychological preparation'_ or something."

"I'll steal that idea from you, if you don't mind."

"And you expect me to just _hand_ it to you for nothing?" Spleenk asked jokingly.

"Well, I'd planned to take you to dinner if you weren't busy tonight."

"Deal." He grinned.

Lard Nar couldn't help but smile back.

Spleenk reclined in his chair, "Any word on Red and Purple yet?"

"They're gonna be completely knocked out for about twelve hours for surgery and post-op procedures. They'll spend about six hours in intensive care, and they'll have to wear some special kind of cast for maybe the same amount of time. I'm not sure exactly how it works, but the Doc was saying something about it 'encasing the affected area in a completely separate environment'… no harmful bacteria, and such. Accelerates cell growth and whatnot. That, plus their Paks, and they should have working thumbs by tomorrow afternoon. They'll still have to get used to working _with_ them, but I don't think it'll be much of a problem."

"Sounds productive."

"I haven't heard anything from Buir or Mei, which like everything else about them, makes me both suspicious and reassured. I still don't know _how_ they fit into any of this. Apparently, _she_ doesn't, either."

"Can't she just work her psychic mojo and see the future to figure it out?" Spleenk asked.

"Apparently, it doesn't work like that. Shloonktapooxis is bitter because he hasn't got palms for her to read, and not so much bothered by the fact that she can't actually read palms." Lard Nar explained.

"Interesting. A seer who can't see the future. So what _does_ she do?"

"Well, she says she can feel the flow of energies. Something about time and physics and relativity that went well beyond anything I can even try to understand. When she 'feels' your future, apparently, she's just following the direction your energy is flowing. Red thinks it's a load of crap."

Spleenk laughed. "Not surprised. What do _you_ think?"

He sighed, "I really don't know."

"Can she do anything other than see and anticipate the flow of energy?"

"I got the distinct impression from the way Buir _didn't_ answer my question that she's quite capable of making someone's head explode."

"So she can manipulate energy, too?"

"Yeah. She told me 'telepathy is not magic'. Personally, I tend to think that hearing voices is more crazy than telepathic, but hey, it's not like she'd be the first of us."

Something the Captain had said must have stuck a chord in Spleenk, because he appeared very thoughtful for a moment, "She told you she was telepathic?"

"Yeah, but I don't see what it has to do with anything."

"Did she say whether or not she could, like, have a conversation with thoughts?"

"She said she's worked with coma patients and things like that." Lard Nar answered, "What's this about?"

"The patient in the Psych Ward. He's mute. His lucid periods are too short, and nobody knows what kinds of things will trigger an episode. We don't know what kind of psychosis he's got, and we can't try to treat him because he won't let us _near_ him with a needle. It takes an unbelievable about of drugs to knock him out. We can't do any magnetic imaging because he's got something metal imbedded in his cervical vertebrae. The other imaging scans we've done can't make much sense of it. We can't restrain him, because the one doctor who tried ended up sending the guy into catatonia for a while. He always wakes up, though. It's like his body just doesn't know how to sleep. We have no idea what this guy has been through, so we can't even find a place to start."

The Vortian cringed.

"Yeah, I know. But if Mei could do… whatever the hell she does, get into his head and poke around, maybe we could help."

"I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you that you've been promoted to Head of Intelligence."

Spleenk laughed, scratching the back of his head, "Don't you think we should have a committee for that kind of thing?"

"Well, I'm promoting Tenn to Chief Security Officer, like I said before. I plan to assign Tak to the head of Tech and Development, and Red will be taking over as Director of Strategy and Defense. I didn't know _what_ to do with Purple when he first got on board, but he'll be extremely effective as the CO of Field Ops. That way, Red can stay focused on the big picture, and Purple can coordinate the details while they both work together to make sure everything gets done smoothly and effectively, and that our short-term actions move us toward our long-term goals. Shloonktapooxis is still First Mate, because I don't have the heart to demote him, and he's not kidding when he says he knows how to use a rocket-launcher. Plus, he's incredibly determined and has a pretty strong moral constitution to keep us all in check.

I'm going to put the Earth-child on Communications, to see how he handles things before I make any serious decisions about where he belongs. Having worked with Zim for a few years, myself, I'm gonna treat him like a standard mercenary for a while. Nobody has to worry about getting left behind, and Zim can work the way he does best. I'm hoping the Earth-child will prove effective enough to work in the field with him, though. I've designated any and all Reconnaissance Operations to Skooge, since he was good enough to take down Blorch on his own. As Head of Intel, you'd have a special database where all the information and chatter would be sent. Flagged stuff would obviously be the most important, and you could search and sort through it all pretty easily. I've been having Sally and her translator working on it. Naturally, we'd all get together and address anything you find. If you don't want the job, don't feel like you have to take it, though."

Spleenk smiled, "No… no, I think I can do it. At least, I want to try."

"Good. I think this arrangement will make things run a great deal smoother. I have a feeling that things are about to get very real, very fast."

"Me too." Spleenk sighed, "We can't fail, you know that, right?"

"I wouldn't have started this if I intended to lose." The Captain replied.

"Just making sure. It's… it's easy to say that until the tide turns or you lose somebody. You're the Captain. It's your responsibility to see this through. If something happens to me, or Red, or Purple, or even the guy who fixes the pipes, we've all got to be treated the same way. It's not pretty, but it's the truth. You can't allow yourself to be clouded by emotion when it comes to this sort of thing."

"Do you have some sort of suicide pact I wasn't asked to join?" He joked.

Spleenk gave him a relieved smile, "No. Just needed to be sure that you understood. These people tortured our friends, killed our families, and now they want us. I'm not going to let them win because we got caught up over revenge."

"I understand."

The other alien was glad to see that the Captain actually meant what he said and nodded pleasantly. "So, what do you say we pay this 'seer' a visit?" He asked.

Lard Nar nodded. "I say all right. She's still in MedLab."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah," the Vortian sighed, "the medical staff are scared of her brain. They like her where she can be monitored."

Spleenk shuddered, "I would, too."

* * *

Mei offered her customary warm smile, "Good day, Captain." She said, acknowledging him with a slight nod before turning her attention to the alien with whom she had yet to become acquainted, "We have not yet had the pleasure of meeting." She said, "I am Mei-Xīn, but "Mei" is fine. You have a kindness about you. I sense that you are trustworthy."

"Very much so, Mei." The Captain answered.

"Hi… uhh, I'm Spleenk… I, uh, well, I _used_ to be a doctor – not a medical doctor, a psychiatrist. Forensic psychologist – for the Hedraretica Bureau of Criminal Investigation, which was before the invitation to the IACF - Interstellar Anti-Crime Force forensic department – sorry, I, uh, talk a lot, sometimes." He paused and drew a breath. "One of the people we rescued off Vort seems to have suffered _severe_ mental and physical distress. I've been working with the psychiatric staff, but he won't let anyone near his person. We've tried knocking him out, but it never works for long and we're reluctant to up the dose because then he might not wake up _at all_. To complicate things even more, he's mute. He'll sit with me when he's lucid, but I can't get anything out of him. He can't communicate through written language, but I know he understands what we're saying. Since seeing into people's brains is what you _do_ , I thought you might be able to help."

Mei nodded. "This particular situation will require something more complex than a simple scan. Such a thing might awaken some very unpleasant memories, and I do not think that would be of any help to anyone. Instead, I will have to form a connection with his unconscious mind. I have done this before and there is little risk involved for either of us. I would very much like to assist you with your patient."

"We know they wanted him for something. There'd be no reason to keep him alive otherwise. They're not ones for loose ends or extra baggage. He's been holding onto something since they picked him up, some weird disc we haven't been able to make sense of. We haven't been able to get it out of his hands for long enough. He has a fit if we take it away. All we know about it for sure is that it's incompatible with everything we've got."

The seer nodded, "I shall make sure to inquire about this disc, and find out whatever I can."

"Excellent. If you don't mind, I'd like to do this as soon as possible. Would you be ready now, or does this require some kind of… recharging?" Lard Nar asked.

Mei laughed. "I spend my time, when I am not in conversation with my guardian, in meditation. I am perfectly capable at this moment."

"Thank you." The Captain said, extending a hand in a gesture of thanks. The second that Lard Nar clasped her palm, she felt a painful shock through her body and her vision became cloudy and disoriented. From the look of it, she was on a ship of some sort. Mei couldn't be certain, though, seeing as everything around her was torn apart. The walls were scarred with plasma burns and black, smoky residue from laser-weapons. Panels were smashed, sparking all around her, their wires live and exposed. She coughed in a voice that wasn't right and felt herself clutching at the agony that surged through her body. Broken ribs. At least four. Hissing, mid motion, she amended that list of injuries to include a broken collarbone in addition to surface lacerations and a minor laser burn on her neck. She felt a surge of panic and ran out of the room without bothering to stop and identify the bodies around her. Harder and faster than she ever thought possible, she sprinted down the hallway that led to the lifepods just in time to watch as one was pulled shut. She ran to it, pounding on the door, screaming something incoherent in a terrible, panicked rage, watching in horror as it disappeared.

"Mei… is everything all right?" The Captain asked in a confused voice.

When her vision returned, she saw three worried faces staring at her.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." She replied, shaking it off, "It happens sometimes; it is nothing to worry about."

"Are you _sure_ you're up to this?" Spleenk asked.

"Yes, I am certain of it. Come now, before we all die of old age, let us go and help your patient."

"I have a feeling 'old age' is not on the list of anything that any of us are likely to die from." Lard Nar replied, mildly amused.

"So cynical, Captain." She replied as the group started toward the psych ward.

"Eh, optimism is just a mania for insisting that everything is going right when everything is going wrong."

"Perhaps it is." She replied, "But I should think myself to be a great deal happier, even in moments of suffering. If those moments are made shorter by an optimistic view, the overall quality of my life improves because I perceive it in such a fashion. Perhaps it might never actually get better, but because trusting that it _could_ allows me to lead a fuller life, I see no harm such a mania."

"Well said." Spleenk replied.

"My species _did_ reach the pinnacle of evolution." She replied.

"So that's the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything? _Optimism_?"

"Of course not, Captain."

"But what you're saying is that you actually _have_ the answer?" Lard Nar asked skeptically.

"That is correct." Mei smiled.

"So what is it?"

"In time, your species will be ready. Evolution and enlightenment cannot be taught. To regard it as some sort of dogma is to pervert it. Your minds are not yet ready to comprehend the truth. You cannot even begin to understand the _question_."

"If I won't understand it, what harm is there in telling me?"

Mei sighed and rolled her eyes. "He is a relentless creature, is he not?" Mei inquired, addressing Spleenk.

"Ugh, tell me about it." Spleenk laughed.

"The answer you are looking for, Captain, is 42."

"What?"

"42."

"As in… the number?"

"Precisely."

He shook his head, "I give up."

"I told you. It's the _question_ you must concern yourself with. The answers will come when you ask the right questions."

"You're making my head hurt." He conceded with a sigh, before examining the seer strangely, "But really, though," Lard Nar asked after a moment of silence, "can you _actually_ make somebody's head explode?"

Mei gave him a confused glance, "Why would I want to do a ghastly thing like _that_?" She asked, "It would be impractical to create such a large and unnecessary mess."

"Is that a yes of a no?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Relax, Captain," she sighed at the suddenly skittish Vortain, "I do not generate random head-exploding waves, nor is it something I cannot control. Your brain is safe. From me, at least."

* * *

"E-e-excuse me, My Tallest, Sirs, I did not mean to inconvenience you in any way," an Irken roughly half their size began, "but, um, there's something you should see. I-I think… I think our lab facilities have been infiltrated."

Phthalo and Cyanine shared a look.

"Do you have any evidence of this?" Cyanine asked.

The Irken in the white lab coat with askew round glasses fumbled through files on the data screen in his hands for a moment. "Y-yes, Sirs. Here," he said, "it's an analysis of the growth compound set to be distributed and administered within the coming months."

"There's two sets of data on this screen, Doctor…"

"Nex, please, My Tallest. One set of data is from the distribution sheet, and the other is my own independent analysis."

"Did you have the _proper authorization_ to run these tests?" Phthalo asked.

"Yes, of course." He nodded.

The Tallest shared a confused glance.

"I'm the Head of IDA… Irken Drug Administration. It's my job to have every medication in the Empire approved. The guys at Health and Safety cover a broader area; anyway, the test results were quite alarming, which was why I felt it was necessary to convene an emergency meeting with you."

Phthalo and Cyanine looked to each other with a desperation that the smaller Irken did not see.

Cyanine sighed, "Leave your report with Phthalo here, he'll investigate who might have the resources to do something like this. Meanwhile, you and me are going to head over to the IDA building. I'll need to interview everyone involved in this discovery; privately, of course."

"Yes, yes, absolutely, of course, whatever you want." Nex sighed in relief, "Thank you, My Tallest, I knew you'd see reason."

Cyanine nodded at the doctor. "Could you step outside for a moment? I'd like a moment to confer with my Co-Tallest privately."

"Certainly, My Tallest." He said with a bow before leaving the room.

"What are we going to do?" Somewhere, though, Phthalo already knew the answer.

"You're going to stay here and keep up appearances. Try to relax, okay?" Cyanine replied. "I'll… take care of what needs to be done."

"Cy,"

"Yesterday was hard enough on you. It's my turn."

Phthalo wanted to argue, but sighed instead, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"…Can you be here when I get back?" He asked timidly.

Phthalo nodded with a small, affirming smile. "Yeah. I can do that."

"Thanks. I guess I'll, uh, see you later, then."

"Okay."

Cyanine took a deep breath before he opened the door and disappeared from Phthalo's sight. The room felt empty; he guessed it had something to do with the fact that his co-leader was about to murder about eight to ten scientists just so they could indirectly murder millions more, but it was just a guess.

After locking the door to the room, he allowed himself to collapse onto his bed, pulling one of the decorative pillows close and he forced himself to ignore the emotional response and fight the tears he felt threatening to betray him. Phthalo breathed deeply and tried to focus on something simple. Something idle and inane. Something distracting. He still hadn't gotten used to this part yet; the art of bottling up emotions was still so new. The emotions themselves were not, but the intensity with which he felt them seemed to have increased exponentially in a way he couldn't explain.

He would give himself some time to come to terms with things (as much as one could in the given situation), and try to relax. He knew that when his co-leader returned, he might want to talk. Or not ever want to talk. Maybe he'd just want to sit. Whatever it was, it would be all right. Cyanine had helped him through yesterday, and the least he could do was to return the social nicety. That's all it was; just a way to make things even. It certainly _wasn't_ affection. _That_ would be ridiculous.

* * *

Having finally sorted out a possible combination of medicines to help with Skooge's post-receptor "adjustment period", both Zim and Dib decided that the best way to obtain them was to first raid Professor Membrane's lab. Dib also proposed that they keep their eyes out for anything that might come in handy later, since Earth-tech was something _no one,_ except the two of them, could operate.

Dib's father had taken several somewhat extreme security measures; the boy explained that the only time he ever left it unlocked was when he worked from home on occasion – which was not very often. Dib effortlessly bypassed _all_ of them, including a DNA analysis. Zim guessed that the boy had somehow managed to hack into the security mainframe via a spybot, and program it to recognize his DNA. He sighed in annoyance. He loathed to admit it, but the Dib was not _completely_ inept with technology.

Finally, the door opened and they stepped into an elevator car. Dib punched in the correct sequence and once the doors closed again, the car began its descent.

Zim refused to admit just how interested he was in the contents of Professor Membrane's laboratory. Various gadgets and prototypes, models, and a half finished bag of _Doritos_ so old, Zim would not have been surprised if _those_ turned out to be an experiment, too. He lightly poked at the bag, and much to his disappointment, nothing happened. The Irken frowned with a defeated noise.

"An entire science lab with all kinds of tech you've never seen, and Zim is interested in a moldy bag of _Doritos_."

"It's creepy… and I think might be breathing." He replied, "And Zim has no need for your inferior Human technology! Irken science is well beyond what your tiny speck of puny brain-meat can comprehend!"

Dib just shrugged, "You're right about that." He resumed his search, occasionally considering various objects and searched for anything that might prove useful, as well as the necessary meds for Skooge.

Had the human actually _admitted_ Zim was right? It had to have been a hallucination, because there was _no way_ the Dib-Pig would _ever_ agree with him. Then again, he didn't expect to ever be working in cooperation with the insufferable creature, and slowly he was beginning to find his tolerance for the boy growing. The Dib just _wasn't_ as annoying as he used to be, for some reason. Not by a large margin at all, but considering that they'd been mortal enemies, even the slightest fraction of an improvement had to say _something_. Zim hated to think it was his own perspective, skewed in the absence of his receptors. The things the boy said and thought, and the way he'd been acting… there had been a shift in his personality and Zim could not even remotely, for the life of him, figure it out.

Oh well. He'd get to the bottom of it, eventually. He shrugged, abandoning his internal musing and observation of the _Dorito_ -creature and began rifling through the Professor's once neat and organized drawers, leaving a mess in his wake. Dib looked at him with an expression that asked, _"Really, Zim?"_

"At least I put them back." He replied.

Dib just shook his head. "I'm going to check the supply room. My dad's bound to have _some_ kind of pharmacy. Think you can finish up in here?"

"Of course I can, foolish… _fool_!"

Dib smirked, "Not exactly bringing the A-game, are you, Zim?"

Zim squinted in mock-anger, "Zim is bringing your _entire_ inferior alphabet, Smelly Pea-Filled Hideous Moldy-Dorito-Creature-of-Filth!"

Zim and Dib both turned their heads toward a strange noise.

"I think the _Doritos_ just _hissed_ at you."

"Zim shakes his fist in your general direction, _Dorito_ -Beast! Do not invoke his wrath!"

A scuttling noise was audible for only a moment.

"See, Putrid Potato Boy? Victory!"

"Why do you keep insulting me with vegetables?"

"You could never understand the true _brilliance_ of ZIM!"

Dib laughed. "I'm in sheer awe. I'll be back in a couple of minutes… oh, by the way, that filing cabinet," he said, nodding with his head toward an old steel-gray cabinet shoved way in the back of _everything_ (that would have probably gone unnoticed, had Dib not pointed it out), "doesn't open, so don't bother with it."

If ever there were a creature in the universe with "red button" syndrome, Zim was most definitely it. He tried for an extended period of time (a full forty seconds) to listen to the Dib, but he just _had to know_ what was in that cabinet. It could be full of tube socks for all he cared. It wasn't the contents of the drawer that mattered… it was the act of discovering its contents.

The first things he noticed were the scratches and gouges all around the keyhole of the bottom drawer, and it looked like someone had tried to take a crowbar to it. Well, the human _had_ specifically mentioned that the thing didn't open. The boy's father would likely have the key (or a nifty scientific way to open it without damaging the exterior). Gaz… he couldn't imagine she had a reason to venture down here, unless it was to tattle on Dib for something. Plus, if it _had_ been Gaz, Zim was quite sure she'd have succeeded and there's be _nothing_ left of the filing cabinet.

After fishing around in his pocket and coming up with a mint, a pulse pistol, a marble, the remote control for a television made in 1954, and thirty-seven cents, he found what he was looking for. Similar to what humans called a "pocket knife", but smaller and thinner (and pink, with the Irken symbol on it). He flicked it open and pressed what looked like a smooth metal edge to the keyhole for a few seconds. It made a soft whirring noise and without any effort at all, the lock clicked open.

It looked very much like the boy _had_ wanted to get in into he cabinet, and somehow, succeeded. The files and folders inside were not neatly arranged, and he noticed that some were out of order, completely unlike the Professor's 783 (if you rounded) filing cabinets. It seemed odd that someone like Membrane would go through the work of preserving the work of _all_ his experiments and only to suddenly get sloppy. Casually glancing over the files Zim noticed the word "FAILURE" stamped on the cover of each one in large, unfriendly red letters. His eyes skimmed over various titles, nothing really interesting, (except the concept for a machine called "Taco-on-the-Go", which had encountered some problems with the FDA, CDC, and Animal Rights Activists… something about humans not wanting to capture and kill their meals… Zim, himself, briefly considered going vegetarian after he turned the page to the image of the fits-in-your-pocket meat grinder), until one file in particular caught his attention.

Zim removed the file labeled "D.I.B", which clearly had been disturbed from the rest, and opened it on a nearby table.

… _through this method, which I have called Divided Integration Biogenesis, or DIB, for convenience, I will create organic human life from ordinary human DNA –_ without _depending on stem cell research. I believe that the "genetic centrifuge" I have constructed will successfully split the genetic information of a single parent's diploid cells into haploid cells and "rebuild" themselves so they are_ not _completely identical_ _to the parent's genetic sequence. At this stage, I posit modifications to the genes can be made, as desired (see file G.A.Z). Essentially, I believe that I can create offspring from a single individual. Through genetic manipulation, I can create the next step in human evolution._

_I shall henceforth refer to the subject of this experiment as Dib._

_I have constructed an artificial womb, with only mild alterations to ensure the development occurs as it would in nature. To ensure the proper formation of a sentient human being, I will monitor and chart all levels…_

Zim didn't quite understand. The Dib was a sentient creature. He was alive. In what respect had he fallen so short that his own father had labeled his existence a failure and locked it away like a shameful secret? He would not have time to read the file, and he could not risk bringing it with him. Zim might have been a few sandwiches short of a picnic, but he was not _that_ dumb. Well, not _anymore_ , at least.

He scanned through charts and graphs and data, and skipped to the summary and conclusion. The brevity of the Scientific Method had a certain beauty to it.

_Summary: Perhaps it was the "improvements" I tried to make… perhaps this is what I get in exchange for believing I could play God. My DNA was_ perfect _… I should not have tried to make alterations. I tried to produce an intelligent, driven, and well-mannered child, but the boy is not of sound mind. I continue to hope, for the sake of this experiment and the promise it holds, that one day he will simply "mature" or "grow out of it", but such does not seem likely._

_Gazlene's indications of promise have reached a plateau, as well. She remains in touch with reality and has no problems with fact and fiction. However, I feel I may have stunted her social capacity at the expense of her intellect (see file G.A.Z for further explanation)._

_Conclusion: Failure._

Zim wasn't sure why he felt as mad as he did. Irritating, yes, but the Dib was certainly _not_ insane. If anything, the boy was more observant than the man who deemed him a failure! If he had pursued engineering spaceships instead of looking for them, Membrane probably would have published his experiment a long time ago.

The truth was that Dib had the ultimate scientific mind. Science was not about construction or invention. In it's simplest form, science was just a synonym for curiosity. Experiments were just investigation. Dib had the unique ability, unlike so many of his people, to _ask questions_. The heart of science, as an overall discipline, didn't lie in results. It was a field in which even failure was a success, because no matter how a hypothesis faired, the _process_ of an experiment was significant. If chemical _x_ had no effect on chemical _n_ when you were trying to provoke the specific response, _z_ , there was so much that could be learned about the properties of each and their unanticipated interactions. The general stupidity of humanity seriously irritated Zim.

He quickly stashed the file away, careful to lock drawer again before he finished what he was _supposed_ to do and continued his search for useful items. He'd just about finished when the human returned.

"I found what we need for Skooge. And a few other things that we might be able to use." Dib announced as he re-entered the main room.

Zim faltered for a moment, then recovered. "Good work, Vile Pig-Smelly!" Zim replied.

Dib just sighed and rolled his eyes, "You're so weird."

There was no reason to tell Dib what he'd learned. Unless the boy offered the information himself, he would keep quiet. It was not Zim's place, and he had no business to involve himself in something so personal. In a certain way, they were both in very similar positions. Maybe it was best to allow the boy to take what small comfort he could find in knowing that he was no longer alone. It strangely felt as if it gave Zim's unfortunate situation meaning. It couldn't be useless so long as it was being used, even if only by someone else.

* * *

Tak entered the Physical Conditioning Wing and had no problem locating Tenn, seeing as she was the sole occupant of the room. That, and the fact that she was wielding a sword twice her size also made her presence rather noticeable.

Tak had never trained with a sword, nor was she fond of melee combat. She preferred sabotage and mechanized tactics, really. She was capable of fighting hand-to-hand, but she'd developed a primary focus elsewhere.

She waited for Tenn to take a break from her training but after twenty minutes, she began to get impatient. She hadn't wanted to startle the other Irken, for fear she might find herself sliced open as an accidental result, but she had things to get done.

"The Captain says you're the one to see about getting into the storage room where my SIR unit is stashed." She said, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.

Tenn did startle _somewhat_ , but only enough to strike a fighting position before identifying Tak as the speaker.

"Oh, hey Tak. Didn't see you there." She said, catching her breath. "Yeah, I'll get it for you."

"I don't remember you using a sword at the Academy." Tak mentioned idly for the sake of conversation as they started toward whatever storage locker Mimi was being held in.

"I didn't. I trained in mid to close-range combat."

"You had pretty good marksmanship."

"Fastest draw in the Academy." Tenn couldn't help but smile proudly.

"So what's the deal with the sword, then?"

"Once the receptors came out, I needed a hobby."

"Why pick sword fighting?"

"Why not?"

"To be honest, Tenn, nobody fights with a _sword_ anymore."

Tenn shook her head with a smile Tak didn't understand, "Energy weapons are where it's at, right?"

"Um, yeah, that's – that's _exactly_ what I was going to say. No offense or anything, I just think they're more effective… for your combat style."

"Not if your opponent's wearing energy-absorbing armor."

"Well, of course not, but what are the odds of _that_? Energy-absorbing armor is almost _impossible_ to come by."

"There's something you're going to learn very quickly in your time here, Tak. Always figure on the impossible. Oh, and always aim for the head."

"What, are we in a zombie vid?"

"No. It just gets the job done easier. Take my word for it."

"Are you okay, Tenn?" Tak asked with a confused expression, "You seem a little… off."

She sighed, "I think I've been training too hard. Maybe Shloonktapooxis is right, maybe I'm focusing on it too much."

"You mean that loud guy who looks like a cross between a cup of soda and a sno cone? Is apparently gifted with a rocket launcher?"

"Yep, that's him."

"He doesn't strike me as a terribly bright fellow."

"I think he does it on purpose." Tenn replied, stopping in front of a storage unit. "Here we are." She said before entering the key to unlock the door and the code to open it.

Tak found her SIR unit a few feet from the door and switched it on immediately. The robot looked confused and disoriented, and slightly frantic.

"What's… what's wrong with her?" Tak asked, "Mimi?"

"Her personality profile has to adjust. We had to take out the imbedded Irken programming."

"Mimi… do you know who I am?"

The robot took a long look at her master, and when recognition sparked, she grinned and nodded happily.

Tak let out a sigh of relief. "Thought I lost you for a second there, girl."

The robot made a happy sound as Tak patted its head, indicating it felt much the same way.

"Do you still have those plans for the quantum engine I was working on?"

Mimi nodded, opening up the storage compartment in her head and producing several file folders.

"All right," Tak said resolutely, "let's go figure out how to make that engine work."

The SIR unit nodded and grinned.

"Thanks, Tenn."

She shrugged, "It's my job."

"Okay, well… um, good work, then." She tried awkwardly. The two only really knew of each other through name and reputation. Yes, they'd gone to the Academy and even shared classes, but they had never actually engaged in conversation. They had no common ground and neither knew how to go about finding it. Neither was sure it would be worthwhile.

Tenn was still suspicious of Tak. She knew that the violet-eyed female would do absolutely everything she could to appear trustworthy if she planned on moving against them. Even if she genuinely _did_ want to help, Tenn knew that was only for now. Tak liked power too much to turn down an opportunity when it came, and Tenn was certain that it would.

* * *

"What's the status of the patient, doctor?" The Captain asked, standing outside the door to said patient's room.

"He just had some kind of fit and passed out. Ethan was bandaging up his hands and when he went to cut the tape, I guess the scissors must've scared him."

Lard Nar sighed, "Will your thing work if he's already unconscious?"

"It will take a bit more effort on my part, but yes, it will be effective." Mei replied, "May I enter his room, please?" She asked the doctor.

The Captain nodded for the doctor to let her in. The doctor just shrugged and sighed, muttering under his breath, "I guess _everyone's_ a doctor now. I _still_ haven't paid off med school…"

Mei approached the sleeping alien and sat beside him. She took hold of his hand and closed her eyes while the others remained in the doorway and watched.

As gently as she could, Mei called out into the darkness of his mind. _"Hello… are you there? Do not be afraid, I am a friend. I mean you no harm. I only wish to speak with you."_

" _Where am I why can't I-I can't see you, why can't I see you?! Did they take my eyes? Where are my eyes, I want my eyes back, don't let them take my eyes – I don't like the dark!"_

" _Shhh, easy, Little One, you have so much fear in you… you do not need to be afraid, Dear. I am a friend. The people you see when you are awake, they are friends as well. They only wish to help. I am here only to help you. I am called Mei-Xīn. You can call me 'Mei'."_

He made a soft whimpering sound.

Mei conjured the comforting image of a particular beach she found in his mind, one that he regarded with a feeling of safety comfort, projecting an image of herself within the scene. _"I am here, on the beach. Do you see me? Please, come and sit with me. You are safe in this place. No one can harm you here."_

She saw a hazy image of the man she was communicating with come in to focus, sitting across from her on the sand.

" _I only wish to help you. What is your name, Little One?"_

He struggled to speak in spite of his nervousness. _"M-m-my name was Pethra once, but sometimes it's Grel. Pethra is not Grel, but Grel is Pethra sometimes."_

" _Who am I talking to right now?"_

" _Pethra."_

" _I am delighted to meet you, Pethra."_

" _Pethra is… is glad to meet you, too."_

She smiled, _"Where is Grel? Can I speak with him?"_

" _Grel is gone away now. Was never_ really _here, just his echo. You can't hurt an echo unless it has a body."_

" _Why do you not speak, Pethra?"_

" _They did not need for us to speak, so They cut the cords."_

" _They took your voice away?"_

He nodded.

" _Do you know why?"_

" _Only needed Pethra's body. Grel needed someplace to go."_

" _Do you know where Grel is right now?"_

" _Grel doesn't talk to Pethra anymore. Has been with Pethra for twelve years, but he is very old, like you."_

" _How do you know that I am old?"_

" _Grel has told many things to Pethra. Many, many things. Things Pethra can never speak. But you were there, so you remember, so Pethra can tell you."_

" _I do not understand, Pethra."_

" _He needed you to find her. Has a message she must hear."_

" _What message?"_

" _On the disc Pethra found."_

" _Can you tell me about the disc?"_

He looked scared and reluctant, _"Is Grel's disc; Pethra found by accident. Was his job to dig for things before the Bad Men took him. Pethra was digging and he found books. Many, many books. Pethra was confused at first; he did not understand the history they spoke of. He could find no mention of it anywhere. One was empty inside, used for hiding disc. When he showed his employers, they took him away to meet the Dark Men. Tortured Pethra and put Grel inside. The Dark Men in the Screaming Place hurt us, for the disc. Could not open it without Grel. Only Grel knows the secret, but he never told Pethra. Said it was too important; he worried Pethra would obey the Dark Men."_

The alien cringed and clamped his hands over his head as pain rippled through it. Mei shared the sensation and mirrored his reaction.

" _Pethra is… is sorry, he gets headaches very bad."_

"… _It's-it's alright, Dear."_ She replied kindly. _"Why won't you let the doctors help you, Pethra?"_ She asked, _"They want to make you better."_

The alien shook his head fearfully, _"No, no, no, no, no…"_

" _I promise, they will not hurt you. They won't let the Bad Men find you."_

He looked hesitant and frightened, but somewhat more settled.

" _O…okay. Pethra will… will do his best."_

" _Thank you for talking with me, Pethra. Would you like me to help you communicate with the others?"_

The alien nodded, _"Would like that very much. You are much kinder than Grel said you would be."_

_She looked confused. "Why would he think me unkind?"_

" _You refused him. Pethra does not want to offend you,_ he _likes you very much, but Grel did not speak well of you. Said that this is all your fault."_

She looked confused, _"Pethra, I do not know who you are speaking of."_

" _Encountered him very briefly. One of three who did not turn to ash. He found your home world and appealed to the one you called Divine. She said you would be waiting for him. Grel hoped you would let him hide; he needed your sight. Your Divine One said She left you with a prophecy. That he was part of it. Would_ always _be part of it. Just like you."_

Mei suddenly felt her stomach lurch, _"I did not know of the situation until it was too late."_

" _Grel used to say that is a poor excuse. You did not care to ask, he used to say."_

" _I cannot be held accountable for the transgressions of others. I am responsible only for my own actions."_

" _That applies to_ inaction _as well, Grel said. Your Divine One gave her life, but it was a direct consequence of your failure to act. The universe has suffered greatly because of this failure."_

" _And does the Universe think that I have not suffered just as much? Alone, in exile, for thousands of years – denied evolution and abandoned by my own people?"_

" _Grel forgives you. He has told Pethra many times that the universe is an imperfect place. Screws fall out. Things fall apart. The center does not hold. We must_ become _the center if we wish to survive, is what Grel said."_

" _Where is he now?"_

" _Back at the Screaming Place; they keep him there – even when he has a body. Need him for the disc."_

" _Thank you for all your help, Pethra."_

" _Is not problematic… Pethra has not spoken to anyone, except Grel, in a long time."_

" _My friends may be able to fix that, Pethra. In time, perhaps you will come to trust them. They are good people. They will not hurt you."_

Though still not quite at ease with the idea, he nodded, _"Okay… Pethra will try."_

She smiled, _"Good. We have to go back now, but you will be able to speak with me whenever you need to. Is that all right?"_

The alien nodded in affirmation.

Mei carefully eased herself out of his consciousness and into her own. She slowly blinked her eyes and found the group convened at the door, waiting expectantly for her. "Perhaps we should discuss this matter in depth when everyone is present. His name is Pethra; I believe he was an archeologist of some kind. Run that name with his face through a search, but turn off the filters. I have a hypothesis." She sighed, "He has been through much. I believe that the unidentified metal you discovered in his cervical vertebrae is part of a unique neural relay directly connected to his brain. I believe it was holding the imprint of another creature's consciousness."

"That's _impossible_!" The head psychiatrist replied, "Nobody has the technology to do that!"

"Yeah, and nobody's figured out the Quantum engine yet, either." Spleenk reminded in a tone laced with sarcasm.

"You think the tech is Theirs?" The Captain asked.

Mei nodded, "I am certain of it. He referred to 'Dark Men' and 'Bad Men' many times. He said they were responsible for the implant."

"Makes sense." Spleenk affirmed.

"How so?" Lard Nar asked out of curiosity.

"What other race would have such an extensive knowledge of personality programs and imprints?" He replied. "Can I have a copy of the x-rays of the cervical vertebrae?"

The doctor nodded.

"'Nar, do you think Red and Purple are conscious yet?"

He looked at his watch and shrugged, "Conscious, probably. Coherent… depends on the meds. Why, what do you think?"

"Well, you know how Irkens have that emergency internal backup? It's in a different place on the spine, but it basically transcribes the brain's neural outputs into recordable data."

"Like how Purple was able to record sensory information without a Pak that one time?" Lard Nar replied, "Oh wait… none of you were there for that."

"It doesn't matter," The psychiatrist interrupted, "because the brain wouldn't be able to handle something like what we're taking about here. The second consciousness wouldn't be compatible with the way his brain is organized or it would rewrite his original personality – if that's even _possible_. You can't run two different operating systems on a machine at the same time."

"Unless you're running parallels." Spleenk interjected. "I think it's got something to do with how they programmed it to work, and where in the brain they made the neural connections. Take a look at the way his brain is mapped out. His neural pathways are completely rerouted. I think they did that to make some kind of neural circuit compatible with, but independent from what his brain acknowledges. I think it's worth having Red take a look at. It's too similar, conceptually, to Irken tech for us to ignore. The only way to figure it out is to ask someone who knows more than us about the Pak and how it works. I can't think of anyone better."

"Sounds reasonable enough." The doctor agreed.

"Captain, Sir!" Called a nurse standing in front of a computer, "We finally got a hit on our mystery patient in the database."

The small group immediately turned their attention to the computer screen.

"According to the death certificate, he kicked the bucket twelve years ago."

"And you're _sure_ this is our patient?"

"The facial recognition software says it's a 99% match. Pethra Sarcon was apparently killed on an archaeological dig twelve years ago when – get this – _The Massive_ destroyed the moon he was assigned to."

"That could be a simple coincidence." Spleenk reminded.

"Take a guess who sponsored the whole thing."

"…No way. You're kidding."

He shook his head, prompting Spleenk to do the same in disbelief.

" _Irk_?"

"Yep. Says here that the project was issued directly from the Tallest. Doesn't make much sense, though, to fund an operation you're gonna blow up."

"If you've got something to hide, it certainly does." Spleenk said.

"If you will excuse me," Mei's weary voice interrupted, "may I return to my room for some rest? The connection took more effort to maintain than I first suspected it would."

"Sure, Mei. Thanks so much for your help; we'll send for you when we get everybody in the same place so you can give us a more thorough explanation of things." The Captain replied with a smile.

"Thank you, Sir." She replied, masking how unsettled she felt beneath the surface, desperately trying to avoid thinking. She could feel it though; that lone, single memory she kept hidden and forgotten. She had nothing to do with it, she told herself, so there was no reason to bother with it. She was not responsible, so she should not blame herself. She had done nothing, and whatever may have happened after was no fault of her own. After a few thousand years, she had finally begun to believe it, but now – after having spoken with the patient and sensing the degree of his trauma, and calling to mind the brief glimpses of sheer agony she had gotten from seeing only seconds of Red and Purple's history, she could no longer bring herself to deny it.

* * *

"Okay, girl, help me out." Tak said, addressing her SIR unit, "what makes this thing work?"

Mimi downloaded the data they'd gathered on the working quantum engine and contrasted Tak's previous attempts before she appeared to have an idea. After scribbling something on one of the blueprints, Mimi smiled with a pleased expression and pointed to her work.

Tak studied Mimi's writing, glancing from the robot to the blueprint to the robot again, and then the engineers.

"Which one of you came up with the base units?"

A hand went up.

"You're fired."

"But…I'm a volunteer."

"Fine. You're fired from this project!"

"Why?"

"Because _you're_ the idiot who has us working with base four instead of _five_!"

"…Wait, it's base five? Since _when_?"

"Since _always!_ _Hyperspace_ is base four! Were you born on a toxic waste site or something?!"

"I-I don't think so."

Tak sighed, "That was rhetorical, but thanks. Anyway, I've figured it out. I'll send it to the blob-girl for computer simulation."

"Wait – just like _that_?"

She nodded, "All I had to do was add the specs for the stabilizer in _base five_ to the last model I drew up. Couldn't figure out how to get the damn thing to harmonize, which was why they kept exploding. Whoever figured that one out gets a proverbial gold star. This algorithm is absolutely genius. Very nice work."

The engineer nodded with a modest, "Thank you".

"There's still like _thirty_ more pieces of this thing to work out!" Said a random face Tak did not deem important enough to put an appropriate name to.

Tak smirked, "By all means, Sir, spend the next couple _million_ years solving those equations. I think they're either traps or tricks. That way, they can prevent anyone who might have the capacity to figure it out from ever using it."

"What about the wormhole navigation?" Unimportant, Nameless Face inquired.

She waved her hand, "I've had the wormhole thing down for a while now, and that'll be easy enough to integrate into the starships' nav systems. Good work, everyone – _except_ Base Four Guy!" Tak turned to her computer and began inputting the correct simulation data, "Nice work, Mimi. I think we might like it here after all."

The red-eyed robot gave a satisfied smile.

* * *

He had this terrible habit of being late for everything.

Everywhere he went, it was as if his life was constantly running twenty minutes behind, which was why he was currently in shambles on his frantic way back to work. He normally wouldn't have cared, but normally neither of the Tallests were there. It wasn't every day that he was supposed to be _interviewed_ by his leaders. It also wasn't every day that his building was on fire.

Against self-preservation, he instinctually raced into the building. Maybe someone was still alive, maybe – Irk forbid – his Tallest was trapped, maybe it was a terrorist attack… he decided that he wouldn't go far (he was not an idiot), but if he could potentially be helpful, it would be worth it.

Not very far away, he noticed a mangled heap that only on second glance as the light refracted off the shiny metallic surface could he tell had a Pak attached to it. Fighting the urge to throw up, he forced himself to get closer and examine it. It was definitely a Pak, and _definitely_ an Irken – though mangled beyond any hope of recognition. He ejected the memory drive from the Pak and tucked it away, sprinting toward the exit. He didn't slow down once he reached the outside. The fresh air felt good and the adrenaline pumping through his blood carried him almost a mile away before he even thought to slow down or evaluate what had happened. He didn't bother to try, though. Whatever it was would be on that memory disc, and he intended to find out. One of the bio-genetic experiments could have gotten loose, for all he knew. Maybe it was out there somewhere, tearing people to shreds. The young Irken doctor tried to breathe normally. He tried Nex's mobile communicator, but he couldn't get through. Twice more he tried before attempting to contact another co-worker with just as much success. His heart began to race and he was, for a moment, consumed by the sinking feeling that he might want to find someplace safe to hide, _real_ soon.

* * *

When he finally returned, Cyanine was… well, he was something that Phthalo had never seen. He would have dubbed it "horrified", but the complete numbness he was radiating made the adjective a poor choice. There was a hollow look in his eyes and Phthalo knew it well, despite never having seen his co-leader display it before.

Acknowledgement. Acceptance.

Despite the weight of the armor, Cyanine was visibly shaking. He looked _through_ his co-leader who approached him, hesitant and cautious.

"Cy… hey, Cy, it's me… it's Phthalo. Are…" he sighed, "of course you're not okay, that's stupid," he chastised himself. "Do you… can I… is there anything…" Phthalo struggled for the right words and failed. Of course he needed something, and it was nothing that Phthalo had the power or ability to give. Cyanine had said it himself once before.

The going price for freedom was more than they could afford.

He sighed in frustration and reached out, just _barely_ glancing a fingertip across Cyanine's hand. The green-eyed Irken seemed to gradually withdraw from his trance, recognition sparking in his eyes at the sight of his co-leader. The only thing that changed about him was the incredible pain he seemed to radiate.

"Come on, Cy," Phthalo began in a soft, calming voice, "let's get you cleaned up."

Tears slowly began to spill down his face, though he for the most part remained stoic as he nodded in agreement, following the other Irken into the bathroom.

Phthalo sat him down carefully in the decorative chair beside the sink, silently soaking a washcloth before wringing it out. He gently began to wipe the dirt and dried blood off Cyanine's tear-stained face, unsure of what to say.

"…I'm so sorry, Cyanine. I'm so, so sorry…" Phthalo suspected he might be crying a little, but he wasn't particularly focused on his personal welfare at the moment. It felt so inadequate considering all that Cyanine had endured on his account.

A long moment passed, and Phthalo went back to cleaning the reminders off his co-leader's skin. Unable to look up at him, he took one of Cyanine's hands, and held it for a moment, studying the damage before examining the other one.

"Did a number on your hands." He commented, if only to break the unbearable silence as he rose to his feet and found the BioKit. After a few moments of rummaging through it, he pulled a few things out and set them on the floor. "You won't feel this at all, I promise." He said, spraying the wounds with a topical numbing solution. "Just give it a minute, I don't want to hurt you."

Cyanine didn't respond so Phthalo kept his mind busy by focusing on the process. Antibacterial cleansing solution, pat dry, antibacterial ointment, graft-aid, gauze, tape. Left hand. Repeat.

"Wasn't your fault."

Phthalo looked at the green-eyed Irken as he finished wiping the blood spatter off his arms. "You went because of me."

"I went because I _chose_ to go. You didn't ask me to. You're not responsible, in any way for what happened. It doesn't matter _if_ I went foryou. It matters that I _chose_ to go for you. It was my decision. You didn't _make_ me do anything I didn't _want_ to. Do you understand, Phthalo?" He asked, holding Phthalo's eyes in a serious gaze.

The blue-eyed Irken nodded, feeling somewhat lightheaded.

"Is… is it all gone now? I want to go change, but I…" his voice died, "I look like a monster."

Phthalo could not suppress the sympathetic expression from manifesting on his face, "You _don't_ look like a monster." He said resolutely, "I missed a bit. Almost done." He wiped away the smear of red beneath his co-leader's jaw. Phthalo rubbed at the stain midway down his neck on the left side, and wasn't sure what he supposed to feel when Cyanine unexpectedly gasped and tilted his neck instinctually. He told himself it was curiosity that motivated him to keep wiping at that particular spot long after the blood was gone, and not the way Cyanine said his name in a high-pitched gasp. Once he processed that thought he dropped the cloth, retracting his hand as if touching a hot stove.

"…Phthalo…"

"You're, uh, it's, I got everything – I think – so it's, just don't look at the armor and you'll be okay. Do you want to change into another set of robes, I can get them if it's easier, let me get them, I'll just go," he rambled, blushing furiously and avoiding Cyanine's face at all costs.

"Are you afraid of me?"

"What?" He asked with a puzzled expression, " _Of course not_ , Cy, you're the _one person_ in this universe I'm _not_ afraid of!"

"Why'd you flinch?"

Phthalo blushed and thought that he might be the first person in history to literally die from embarrassment. "I… it's, well… I," he stammered, "It wasn't appropriate to… touch you."

Cyanine nodded, understanding, staring at his hands. "If it means anything, I don't care about 'appropriate'. Not after today."

His heart began to beat faster, "What… what are you trying to say, Cyanine?"

"I'm trying to say that I liked when you touched me, and would not be adverse to trying it more often and perhaps in a more personal capacity."

"Wow… no proverbial beating around the bush with you, is there?" He tried to laugh lamely.

"I've felt better these last two days than I have since we started. Being with you is the reason for that. I liked holding you yesterday, and I liked whatever it was that happened tonight. I'd also like to find out what, if anything, that means – or has the potential to mean – in the future. Right now, you're all I've got. I'm realizing more and more that you're the only thing I have to look forward to anymore, and as long as I have that, it's better than it was."

Phthalo looked conflicted. "I want to, Cy. I really, _really_ want to. I just… I don't want to see you get hurt."

Cyanine gave a long exhale, "I don't really think either of us can really control that."

Almost as if on cue, they heard the ghost of a disturbingly polite knock. They hated how it seemed to permeate the walls, making certain it always reached their auditory receptors.

Cyanine looked so far gone he could not bring himself to care. Phthalo hated seeing him like this, even if they hadn't known each other's history all that well. The door opened and the familiar pains of brute force were awakened all over his body before he fell unconscious.

* * *

Groggy eyes blinked as the hazy world around them slowly came into focus. Skoodge yawned, and the sound immediately prompted Zim and Dib to the former Invader's side.

"How are you feeling?" Dib asked.

"Is it bad?" Zim asked.

Skoodge took a brief moment to catalog his physical and mental status. "I… I'm all right, I think. As all right as any of us _can be_ , I suppose. Why? Am I supposed to be something else?" He asked, confused.

"It pains me to say this, Pointy-Haired-Meat-Stink," Zim sighed, "but your idea was not a complete waste of time."

Holding his hands over his heart dramatically, he gasped, "Why, Zim, was that a _compliment_?!"

Zim folded his arms over his chest, "After a fashion, I suppose. _Don't_ get used to it."

Dib offered an amused shake of his head as he rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to Skooge. "Are you all right to stand?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Master!" The Computer interjected.

"Is everything all right, Computer?"

"Tak is on hold. She says it's about the engine."

The three exchanged glances and shrugs before heading into what Dib guessed was the main hub of the underground maze that was Zim's base.

"Put her through." Zim told the computer.

Tak appeared onscreen. "Well, you haven't blown yourselves up removing it, so I'm going to assume you're ready to fix and install the Quantum engine. I'm sending the specs and details over now. The repairs should only take about an hour or two, and the installation won't be problematic if you _follow the instructions_." She said, with heavy emphasis on following the instructions. "Once you've had the computer run a diagnostic to make sure nothing went wrong and it's put together like it's supposed to be, call us. I'll send you a _very specific_ route to program. Do not, for any reason, deviate from that route. We don't want to try extracting the wormhole navigation system. I've thrown one together here, though, and I'm going to load you up with the fastest route possible."

"So how long will the trip take?" Dib asked.

"Maybe fifteen minutes."

"Wow. Um, thanks Tak."

" _Don't_ thank me. I'm just doing my job. If it wasn't in my orders to help you, don't think I wouldn't be."

"Zim, out." He said, effectively hanging up on the female Irken.

"Geez, she's hostile." Dib remarked.

"Yeah, well what else is new?" Zim grumbled.

"C'mon guys, got some serious work ahead of us, so we'd better get started." Skooge said, studying the instructions for the engine repairs.

* * *

" _Please, She said you could help me, the Divine Mistress, she told me to find you – I'm looking for someone but_ no one _can know she's still alive. I think they're on to me, someone knows I was there – they know I survived – I can't run much longer."_ It had been the desperate plea of a man laying his pride at her feet.

" _The_ Divine Mistress _is a_ madwoman _."_ She had replied coldly, no small amount of distain dripping from her tone, _"Why should I bother with an evolutionarily-stunted, barely-sentient creature like_ you _?"_

At the brink of exhausted tears, he reached out as she turned away, grasping desperately at her arm, _"Please, Mei… I – I-I don't know what to do, there's nowhere for me to go – I-I don't care if they catch me, I don't care if they kill me, as long as I find her first. I promised I'd find her!"_

She wrenched her arm away and looked at it in disgust. _"You should not have made a promise if you were not certain that you could keep it."_

He looked at her with a shocked expression and stammered for a moment before he was able to form coherent thoughts. _"I should've died on Irk and that man saved my life! He gave me something important; asked me to find his wife, because she'd know what to do with it! He said the universe might depend on it someday! I have to do this, I_ need _to find her, I owe him my life!"_

She looked him over disapprovingly, _"Clearly, the gentleman in question was not a particularly smart fellow if he selected_ you _of all people to die for."_

Exhaustion and agony had turned to anger in a split second. His posture suddenly became rigid and his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists as his eyes narrowed in fury, _"Take it back."_ He growled, articulating every word as if it were a sentence of it's own.

" _Anger. Such a primitive response. I suppose I should have expected it from such a simple-minded beast."_

" _You arrogant fucking bitch!"_ He cried furiously, pointing a shaking finger directly at her, barely able to restrain the rage building inside him.

" _I am positively_ terrified _."_ She replied with a smirk.

" _What the fuck is your problem?! She said you were here to help me!"_

Mei chuckled, but there was no humor in it, _"Which is precisely why I will not."_

"… _What?"_

" _Leave. I have grown tired of you."_

"That's _it?! You're refusing me because She asked you to help?!"_

" _I was given_ no choice _in the matter! I have been cast aside by my own people because of a madwoman's dream!"_

" _You don't believe in what she saw?"_

" _I care_ nothing _for prophecy!"_ She spat, _"Irk is a_ dead planet _! It has been dead for years and_ nothing _has changed! Furthermore, the planet closed itself off once the fires started and no one has been able to breach it since. The escape you described is ridiculous and impossible. None of my people sensed any survivors. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to meditate."_

Frustration burned behind his eyes and with one last cold stare he spoke, _"You are the coldest bitch in the universe. But for all our sakes, Mei, I hope your right."_

Mei sat in bed with her knees pulled to her chest feeling exactly how she looked, like a terrified, lost child. She recognized the knock at her door as belonging to Buir and she sighed, in an attempt to relax. "You may enter."

He opened the door and bowed respectfully before assuring it was locked behind him.

"I am responsible for all of this." She said, keeping her eyes fixed on the sheets.

"You could not have known."

"But I did. And I ignored it. I did not wish to accept the fault as my own, so I dismissed it, refused to admit it, and because of my pride, the Universe has suffered so much. These people, Buir, they carry such unbearable sadness with them because of my own arrogance. I never even asked his name, when he requested my sight. I did not bother to scan him for truth before I turned him away."

"For every virtue, there is a vice. Each one of us is tainted by temptation. You cannot dwell who you were; who you _will be_ is all that matters. Who we are becoming is what gives us meaning. Surely, you must see that."

Mei just nodded, staring straight ahead. "That is all I have left."

"…Perhaps you should tell them the truth."

Mei gave a hardened laugh, "Yes, I believe they will respond _excellently_ to that course of action. I cannot lose the trust of the Captain. Red hates me as it is, and he is not about to grow any fonder. I _cannot_ in any way jeopardize the delicate position of neutrality I have gained in his partner's mind."

"Would it not make things a great deal easier?"

"I have decided on a course of action, Buir. Whether it is right or wrong, I am not the one to say. The future is in such a delicate state right now that even one misplaced word can throw the Universe into chaos. One _wrong_ word can cause innumerable casualties, unfathomable and irreparable damage, and put the Universe on track toward its end."

"A single word?"

"That was all it took to send us down this road. One wrong word."

"What word could have such power?"

" _No_. A universal truth, Buir, is that absolutely everything can be reduced to simplest form. Explanations and excuses are what we use to console ourselves when we cannot come to terms with a decision we have made. In the end, it is always as simple as "yes" or "no". You have my permission to tell them everything after I have passed, by then, though, I assume they will have figured it out for themselves. With or without me here, they would always have reached what is to come. They deserve a chance to see beyond it."

Uncomfortable, the Paladin replied, "I do not understand, Mei."

"Yes, you do. You do not wish to _admit_ you understand it."

"It is part of my duty as your protector, to defend you from harm, even if that includes from yourself."

"Do not act like a child, Buir. You are more than this. If you have learned anything in all the years you have spent at my side, remember the consequences of pride. I do not wish to see you give your life because the Code asks you to. In time, it will make sense. Everything always does."

"You realize you are asking that I deny all that I am and all that I have ever known?"

She gave a small, honest smile, "This place is one of endings and beginnings. We must accept the death of old ways, good or bad, and allow ourselves to be transformed through this place in time. Everyone around you is at various stages in the process of rebuilding. It is a daunting task to watch the things you gave your life to broken, to stoop and build them up with worn-out tools, but this is what we must do. This movement is a realization. It is not a crusade or a radical fanaticism. We are not extremists and we do not deal in fear and terror. We must fight with honesty. Though we do not strive to incite conflict, we _must_ defend ourselves and stand firm. One can turn the proverbial "other cheek" only so many times before they are bludgeoned to death. What is accomplished by that? It might hurt, but sometimes, one must return the blow with just as much force to prove that they are equals. These people will need you long after I am gone. When one stage of your life ends, Buir, another will begin. I could not think of a more appropriate place for a new purpose to be forged."

He did not look at the seer, but his voice did not disagree. "The future is always born in pain, is it not?"

She nodded. "The war we fight is not against powers and principalities... it is against chaos and despair. Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, the death of dreams. Against this peril, we can never surrender. The future is all around us, waiting in moments of transition to be born in moments of revelation. No one knows the shape of that future, or where it will take us. We know only that it is always born in pain."

* * *

**Allusions & References**

**There is No Mathematics to Love and Los** _ **s**_ is the title of a song by the band _Anberlin_.

When Purple tells Red, **"we've got a lot of time, or maybe we don't, but I'd like to think so, so let me pretend"** , it's actually taken from the Weakerthans song, _My Favorite Chords._

The computer taking **7 ½ million years** to calculate the answer is a _Hitchhiker's Guide_ reference.

**The Ultimate Question** and it's answer being **42** is also from _Hitchhiker's Guide_

Lard Nar's view on **optimism** as **a mania for insisting everything is going right when everything is going wrong** is from Voltaire's C _andide_

Pethra's line explaining that **screws fall out, the universe is an imperfect place** , comes from _The Breakfast Club_

**Things fall apart, the center does not hold** is adapted from Yeats's poem, _The Second Coming_

The phrase **"to watch the things you gave your life to broken, to stoop and build them up with worn-out tools"** is taken straight out of the song _Sowing Season_ by Brand New, and also a biblical verse (if I remember correctly).

The awesomely powerful bit from Mei about " **the war we fight is not against powers and principalities**. **..we know only that it is always born in pain.** " is straight out of Babylon 5. I couldn't help myself. It worked too well.

**Notes**

Zim and Dib were the most fun to write.

Your **neurotransmitter levels** can actually be measured. I have had this done myself.

**Hyperspace theory** involves four-dimensional space. I think I made up "base four", but it's at least based on theory.

It's expensive as hell, but there is actually a working medical procedure that really does **re-grow tendons**.

There may have been something else I wanted to say. I'm tired though, and can't remember.

I hoped the last part of this would be longer, but I wanted to get it posted even if it meant cutting things short. The next chapter will just have to compensate. This one was slower than I'd hoped, but there was no way around it without doing a sloppy job, and you all deserve the best.

Much love to everybody who keeps me inspired. Thank you so much for your reviews and comments, they mean the world and they make me a better writer (I hope!). It's a few days early, but happy 2010.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** it's finally here. More than anything in the world, I want to thank the readers and reviewers. You have no idea how much you've meant to me in the last few months. This story is for you.

* * *

**\- 13 -**

Phthalo was numb to the pain. His mind had drifted somewhere completely separate from his body and he felt as if he were outside himself, watching in much the same manner as would a curious bystander who just happened to be passing. He didn't even hear himself screaming anymore. Maybe he'd lost his voice, or altogether blown his vocal cords. He thought back to the first time he'd experienced pain like this and remembered vaguely that he'd tried to fight it. Oh, how he tried. Tried in vain to fight back. When that failed, he'd tried to run away, and when that failed, he was too weak to do anything but spit in the face of whatever so-called "doctor" had been standing over him.

He remembered, vaguely, what strength felt like. That was what he told himself, but he knew it was a lie. How desperate _was_ a man if he could not be honest with himself while paralyze, with poisoned needles akin to what those used in the Earth practice of acupuncture, only longer, were pushed into his muscles?

No, Phthalo had not the _slightest_ memory of what strength itself actually felt like. All he had was a concept, and even _that_ he could not truly comprehend. He understood what it meant, but not the reason for its existence.

He started seizing then, courtesy of the poison and in his mind, he laughed at how truly pathetic he had become.

' _Oh Phthalo_ , he sighed internally, _'you're a coward.'_

* * *

"This is _your fault_ ," the taller Irken in a familiar dark cloak backhanded the green-eyed Tallest so hard he staggered backward, "it was _your_ job to contain the situation."

"I-I did the best I could, Sir… I-I didn't know, he told me there were only eight of them…"

A hard, blunt kick to his knees knocked him to the floor.

"Don't you _dare_ get up."

Cyanine frantically tried to pull himself together, "He's got no evidence, and he'd never be able to connect any of it, it would never lead back to you."

" _We_ cover our tracks _quite well_ , I assure you." He sighed, pressing Cyanine's head to the floor with the sole of his boot, "What I'm concerned with is efficiency and effectiveness. Would you like to know _why_ your head is under _my_ boot, _My Tallest?"_ He asked, applying more pressure and grinding it against his skin as if it were a stubborn cigarette. " _You're_ the ones with the wealth. _You've_ got respect and adoration by default. But what _we_ have is _fear_. You know what we can do, and you know we won't hesitate to do any of it."

Finally, Cyanine felt the pressure against his head disappear, but he did not even consider getting to his feet.

" _True power,_ Cyanine, is only gained through fear. You'd do well to remember that. Your Co-Tallest, too. Now get up and figure out how you're going to fix this mess because if you _don't_ , you're heading for a _very painful_ , tragically fatal accident in your future."

* * *

After a twenty-four hour period of medical procedures, they were finally allowed to return to their quarters. They still had the spinal surgery to look forward to, but it was a simple procedure and would not be nearly as involved or extensive as successfully attaching artificial extremities. Red clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly, experiencing life with an opposable thumb for the first time in years. His brain behaved as if the finger had always been there; it was only when he caught sight of it or realized how firmly he gripped something that he consciously remembered that something was different.

Purple smiled brilliantly, and Red could tell that deep down, he felt a sense of empowerment. "What are you thinking about, Sweetheart?"

Purple's grin never wavered, "How, when we finally see those bastards for the last time, I'm gonna flip them off just to prove they can't fucking touch me."

Red couldn't help but return the expression. He had no explanation for it, but when he saw the happiness in his mate's face, he felt as if he had never wanted Purple more than he did in that moment.

"What about you?" Purple asked, "What are you thinking about?"

"How difficult it is to keep my hands off you right now."

"How is that different from any _other_ day of the week, Dear?" He teased, moving to straddle Red's lap.

"You know what I mean." He murmured in a low voice, his breath hot against Purple's neck.

Purple grinned and tilted his head in response, hoping to encourage his partner. "Mmm… remind me, please?" He asked with faux-innocence.

He ran his hands along his partner's sides before placing a kiss to his neck and guiding Purple's lips to his, "Gladly."

Purple kissed him deep and slow, and Red moaned as he lost himself in the action. There was nothing special about this day or this moment, nothing that set it apart from the ordinary and everyday – and yet, there was something he felt that made it completely different.

Purple broke the kiss with a gasp as Red unexpectedly toyed with an idle antenna. With a satisfied expression, Red placed a kiss to Purple's jaw and his tongue slowly traced down the length of his partner's neck, sucking at the curve where his shoulder began. Purple gave a moan that immediately turned into a sharp cry as Red's teeth bit down. Not hard enough to break skin – he'd long since learned how much pressure was enough. He swirled his tongue over the soft indentations in his partners flesh until the skin rebounded taut across his shoulder. His tongue followed the distinct line of the other's clavicle as his hands gripped Purple's hips and pressed them into his own.

Red exhaled harshly and Purple gave a low moan before his hands moved overtop of his partner's and gently removed them. Red gave him a questioning glace, seeing as Purple had been responsive and enthusiastic to everything thus far.

"Slow."

Red shuddered and let out a deep breath, trembling fingers reaching up to lightly stroke his partner's antenna, slowly kissing his way up Purple's throat.

Purple threw his head back with a pleased gasp, "Just like _that_ , Red…" Slowly, Purple trailed the tips of his claws down his lover's neck, ghosted his palm across his shoulder and teasingly slipped it beneath the collar of his robe. He slid the fabric aside and it fell away to expose Red's bare shoulder. His skin was particularly responsive to touch at this pace and he sighed with a shiver as the sleeve fell. Even the sensation of fabric moving against his skin caused a small flutter in his stomach.

"Don't be so _tense_ , Red…" Purple whispered, fully aware that his breath on Red's neck was a tease. He lightly traced over the exposed shoulder with a clawed finger as his tongue found a particularly pleasant spot on his partner's neck, " _That's_ a new one." Purple murmured in an interested voice as he turned his attention to the left side of Red's neck.

Red's high-pitched gasp made Purple grin against his skin.

"All this time… I wonder how I managed to miss it."

"I-I'm sure you," Red arched his back and gasped unexpectedly as Purple gently bit down, " _shit!_ I'm sure you've found it before… just, just never noticed…"

"I think I'd notice _this_."

A sharper bite this time followed immediately by Purple's tongue tracing over it. Red could hardly keep himself upright.

"See what you miss when you take things too fast?"

Purple sucked at the spot he'd been attending to, and Red let out a gasp and a hiss, "Harder, Pur…"

Abandoning the notion of modesty, he abided the other Irken's request, much to Red's satisfaction.

"Pur…" he managed breathlessly, hands making their way to his mate's hips again.

Abruptly, Purple left his neck and withdrew, staring into Red's half-lidded eyes, shaking his head as if to say _"not yet"_.

"I love what you do to me." A low voice, thick with lust and full of something like happiness, "I love you."

Purple's response was a kiss that returned the sentiment.

* * *

Tak double-checked the readouts on the engine repaired by the trio stuck on Earth and was interested to find that they had by some _miracle_ managed to _not_ screw up. Her computer and SIR unit were both satisfied with the results of their work.

"I have to say, Zim. I'm a more than a little surprised."

"Yeah, well, so am I."

Tak was slightly caught off-guard, but she recovered quickly. "All right, just input this route into the navigation _exactly_ as it's given; it's written in code your standard NavSat guidance system will understand. The Captain's called a meeting but he's delayed it until your arrival. Take care of whatever you've got to do and get yourselves here as soon as you can. Your rendezvous is _already_ overdue."

"Gotcha. We'll be leaving in twenty standard Earth-minutes." Zim replied, "Zim, out."

"Why twenty minutes?" Dib asked as the screen went dark.

"You probably want to bid farewell to your demon-sibling. Isn't that some traditional, revolting Earth custom?"

Dib nodded, "I guess."

"And it will require at least that much time to get GIR packed."

"True."

"Skoodge and I will prepare the Voot. Go, and pray the demon-spawn does not damage your enormous head _before_ you see combat, Dib-Worm."

"…Yeah." Dib sighed, turning on his heel and heading for the exit. He knew that Gaz would probably smack him for the gesture of compassion. He also knew that she probably would not notice his absence in the slightest. It pained him to admit these things, but considering the direction in which his life was headed (and all that had come before it), Dib decided it was best to accept the truth and move on. That, essentially, was what he'd told Zim. Dib knew it was more than a little hypocritical to say such a thing considering his own coping mechanisms, but in a way, it was sort of all right. He did not anticipate his situation, nor had he ever experienced _anything_ remotely like it before. He had no friends to seek, his sister shunned him, and his father had betrayed him. Everyone already thought he was insane. His father would probably have committed him to the Defective Head-Meat Institute – if only to save his own ass.

At first, he had hated his father. Wanted to expose him and his unsanctioned experiments, and see how _he_ liked being called "insane". Dib soon realized that in doing so, he and his sister would become property of the scientific community.

Despite being completely human, he knew the scientists would find a loophole to exploit and twist to their liking, arguing with fancy words until the ethics committee found a way to declare them both "artificial" and "potentially dangerous", and therefore, necessary to be examined to the fullest extent. They'd argue World War II and every genocide the UN had refused to acknowledge as "genocide" for proof, citing that history might repeat itself in a much more terrible and frightening way if Dib and Gaz were not scrutinized. Who else might _already_ have technology like this, and what militaristic applications could it have? The country would surely suffer if this technology were already in the hands of _another_ nation. Moreover, imagine all the good it could do, they would say. Perhaps by studying them in depth, cures for disease and illness could be found. They might even cure cancer! Extend the human lifespan well beyond a hundred years. To expose their origins would be to condemn themselves to the life of a lab rat or worse.

He had tried for a few weeks, to prove to his father that he was not the failure he insisted. He'd given up chasing after Zim and focused on his schoolwork, he'd studied and even read ahead in his textbooks until he was well beyond his classmates. No one noticed. The best he'd gotten from his father was, _"I'm glad to see you're finally lucid, Son! No more of that insane nonsense about aliens!"_ That had been the point at which Dib gave up on seeking his father's approval, and went back to chasing Zim.

He used the alien to distract himself. If he wasn't actively engaged in thwarting one of his bizarre and… unique schemes, he was devising new methods he could possibly use in the future. It was the only way he could keep himself sane (which was pretty fucking ironic, when he thought about it). Dib knew he was not entirely at ease with the notion of his origins yet, but he had not found the ability to voice them.

He no longer felt the screaming burden of loneliness, though. Yes, he still felt isolated in his own mind sometimes, but it was not nearly as acute as it had once been. All that Zim had been dealing with gave him a strange sense of consolation. No, he was not alone. Furthermore, someone he regarded as an equal was suffering from similar emotions even if they stemmed from a different source. Somehow, knowing that made things just the slightest bit better.

* * *

The Captain groaned at the sound of his mobile communicator, interrupting the so-far-so-good dinner he'd been enjoying with Spleenk. "Are we about to explode?"

"Not unless you know something I don't!" Shloonktapooxis cheerful voice replied.

"Unless we're all in mortal peril, it can wait until later."

"I kinda think you're gonna want to hear about it, Sir…"

Lard Nar sighed, "What is it?"

"The Tallest are gonna make an announcement. Some kind of breaking news, Sally picked it up."

"Notify Red and Purple, we're on our way."

"Yeah, um, about that, Captain… it sounds like they're kinda… busy, at the moment."

Lard Nar managed to stop himself before the words "with what" left his mouth. "Never mind. I forgot it's been a _whole_ _day_ for them. Just send a message. It's not like they'd hear the phone ring. I suppose we can always page them if it turns out to be incredibly bad, which I'm sure it probably is."

"Lard Nar, the bastion of optimism." Spleenk said with a joking smile after the Captain hung up the call.

"Funny. Let's go, we've got to see what that elegant, cold-hearted whore known as "fate" has decided to throw at us _this_ time."

"Hey now, just because fate likes to dress well and sleep around a bit doesn't mean she's a _whore_."

"I'm simultaneously frustrated and amused that you always seem to have an amusing comeback I can never seem to rebut."

"What can I say, it's a gift."

* * *

Shloonktapooxis, as per instruction, dialed the extension to Red and Purple's room. He also made sure the vid-link was cut so it would be a voice call, and nothing more. He hadn't even given it a second thought at the time, but in retrospect, he should've settled for a pre-recorded message like the Captain had suggested rather than opting for a direct call.

Red's voice was strained and his breathing, shallow, "Are we about to explode?"

"What? Oh, um, hey there, Red, didn't… uh, didn't think you'd pick up…" Shloonktapooxis replied nervously, "or, you know, be able to hear the COM…."

A deep breath turned sharp and despite it being slightly muffled, he could hear, " _Shit_ , Pur, just give me a second, I'm on the phone."

"Uh huh." Purple's voice.

"Sorry, Shloonktapooxis," Red suddenly hissed and tried to mute the mouthpiece with his hand and failed, " _fuck_ , Purple," he struggled to swallow an involuntary noise, " _please_ ," his voice shaky and low, "you're _horrible._ "

"I could always _stop_ …"

"Oh no, you don't," came the immediate reply, "not fair."

"Well then, don't complain about it." He said, sounding quite satisfied.

"Make it _fast_ , Shloonktapooxis." Red spoke directly into the receiver.

"Yeah, uh, so, The Tallest are gonna make another announcement – we don't know what it's about yet but I'm gonna let you guys get back to whatever I don't want to know that you're doing,"

" _Fuck_ ," Angry, into the receiver, then directed at Purple, "Of all days for slow, Pur, it just _had_ to be _today_."

"Well I certainly didn't hear _you_ complaining; unless it's Backwards Day and _'yes, don't stop, Purple, please'_ means _'Pur, this is boring, stop touching me so I can go make a sandwich'_. It's not like I knew we were on a deadline."

Purple's voice, into the receiver, "Shloonktapooxis, I've got… something to take care of first. We'll be there when we get there."

The aforementioned First-Mate shuddered and tried to shake the mental pictures from his mind. "I shouldda just sent a message…."

* * *

"My fellow Irkens," Cyanine began, "it has come to our attention that a team of defective rogues infiltrated the IDA. I am pleased to say that their plan to taint the new growth compounds has failed and they have been brought to justice. _One_ of these traitors, however, has managed to escape the raid on the IDA facility and is on the lam. We need your help in apprehending this terrorist before he can strike again. We are asking that all citizens cooperate with law enforcement officials and those affiliated with the Irkwatch program."

A picture of the Irken in question took over the screen.

"We appreciate _any_ information regarding the whereabouts of Irken Doctor Kaff, five feet tall with light pink eyes. There is a standing reward for whoever brings him in, one million monies, dead or alive. He is considered armed and very, very dangerous. We believe he may have been instrumental in the attack on planet Vort. We have also recovered evidence of some disturbing medical experiments conducted by Kaff and other members of the Resistance. I _urge_ that you all remain calm, but we have discovered highly detailed plans for weapons of biotechnical terrorism. It appears that the Resistance movement may be much more advanced than we had originally assumed.

In order to protect ourselves from these violent menaces, we are working our hardest to expedite the process of preparing the growth inoculations and we anticipate distribution will begin sometime in the next two weeks, once we are _absolutely certain_ , that they are one hundred percent safe and effective.

On behalf of my Co-Tallest, whose absence is due to an emergency military briefing, I would like to assure you that this heinous criminal _will_ be caught and brought to justice. Irk and its citizens are, above all else, our primary concern. We cannot afford to leave ourselves vulnerable during turbulent and frightening times like these. When facing extremists, sometimes the extreme may become necessary – _however_ , it is of the _utmost importance_ that each citizen understands we only seek to preserve their well-being and are under _no_ circumstance acting in our own interest.

With that being said, my Co-Tallest and I declaring a state of martial law. I _urge_ you all to _keep calm_. Remember, the purpose of the military is to _protect_ this planet and its citizens. The curfew will help us to better keep track of everyone, in the however unlikely event of kidnappings, emergencies, and evacuations. The Control Brains will be alerted _immediately_ once an Irken ventures outside their home after hours. This way, the military will be able to organize a safer, faster rescue.

Any and all persons without neural relays or tracking implants must, for the sake of their own safety, make an appointment at their earliest convenience for an installation procedure of the device of their choice. It is quick, painless, and all expenses will be covered by the Department of Planetary Security.

In light of the events on Vort, we are extending this declaration to all planets under Irken authority. We ask that as soon as you receive the official orders, that each Irken representative issue the declaration formally to avoid any possible confusion. We ask that instead of inciting panic or confusion or anger that you bring your questions to government officials, who by law are forced to answer them, or members of the Irkwatch. _Every citizen_ under Irken authority is granted protection, regardless of species.

The protection of this decree will extend _beyond_ Irk. I know most of you see us as tyrants and thieves but I assure you, _we_ are not the enemy. We are ashamed of the atrocities of our predecessors. Irk _will_ defend itself in the face of aggression and hostility but we will _never_ act without provocation. Since the Empire has expanded, so must the benefits of its citizens. The profiling of any species by authorities will not be tolerated. Hate crimes _will_ be taken seriously and punished to the fullest extent of the law. Any crime committed against a non-Irken citizen on the basis of species or gender will carry the same penalty as an Irken on Irken offense. Thank you."

"Shloonktapooxis," Lard Nar began, "send word to our scouts that I've issued a BOLO on Kaff."

"Yessir!"

"If Irk wants him _that_ badly, it's worth investigating. We've actually got the _upper hand_ in this one, so tell them it's a Level 1 priority."

"How do you figure we've got the upper hand?" Spleenk asked.

"It's our job to stay hidden. If this guy wants to hide, he's bound to run into one of our people _somewhere_. Plus, he tested the vaccine. He knows how it works, and maybe, he could figure out how to engineer a cure. Or at least, an antibody."

"See, that wasn't such bad news." Spleenk smiled and Lard Nar rolled his eyes. "Aw, don't be grumpy 'cause I'm _right_."

"Did you not hear the bit about "expediting the inoculations" and martial law? That sweet little gesture of buying all non-Irkens tracking devices is not exactly _good_ news."

"Knew I could count on you to remind me that every silver lining has a cloud, and lightning kills most of the people who go looking for it. Oh, hey, looks like Red and Purple finally made it."

"Really?" Lard Nar asked, taking note of the two tall Irkens headed in their direction. "So they have."

"Didn't think we'd be seeing _you_ so soon." Spleenk said.

"Us either." Purple replied, "What'd we miss?"

"Just tell me you didn't call us out here for _nothing_." Red added.

Shloonktapooxis shrunk, "Uh, yeah, so, I'm gonna go issue that BOLO now." He said, darting away as quickly as possible.

"…You _did_ call us out here for nothing, didn't you?"

"Hey, I told him to send you two a message." Lard Nar explained with something of a grin.

Red collapsed into a nearby chair, covering his face with his hands, "Fuck my life."

"You wish." Purple replied with a wink and a smirk, not missing a beat.

"Damn right, I do."

"If it's not one, it's the other." Lard Nar sighed hopelessly.

"Hey, _you_ pulled us out of bed. It's either keep him amused or listen to him complain… which will likely include the use of graphic imagery _none_ of us, aside from him, want to hear."

The Captain cringed and Spleenk gave an even nod of acceptance. The Vortian gave the aforementioned alien a confused glance.

"What? Like you _wouldn't_ be annoyed if that happened to you?"

Lard Nar tried to find words for a moment in that awkward, shocked stumble that Spleenk always seemed provoke. "Well, erm, _annoyed_ , yes – but being annoyed is one thing… that's… that's _quite_ another."

"Maybe. But I've gotta say, it works for me." Red grinned.

"Of course it does." The Captain responded.

"Oh please. _He's_ not _nearly_ as innocent as he seems." The red-eyed Irken responded, gesturing toward his partner.

"Yes, but the key factor here is that I _seem_ tastefully discreet."

Red gave his mate a skeptical expression, "Uh huh. Wanna take that one up with Shloonktapooxis?"

"That doesn't count."

"Oh? And how do you figure that?"

" _I_ had nothing to do with whatever conversation _you_ were having that may have disturbed him." Purple stated firmly.

"So you're saying that whole thing was _my_ fault, somehow?"

Purple shrugged his shoulders with a wicked grin, "I wasn't the one who couldn't keep his mouth shut."

"I seem to remember yours being fairly busy."

"Not with talking." He taunted.

"If that huge welt on Red's neck is any indication," Spleenk interjected, "it certainly looks like Purple's right."

The attention of both Irkens immediately turned to Red, who made a futile effort to feel around for whatever Spleenk was talking about. Purple tilted his partner's face and instantly knew the other Irken would never allow him to live this down. Heat burned his cheeks as he swore under his breath, pressing his palm against his forehead with a newfound fascination for the floor.

" _Fuck._ "

Even Lard Nar failed to totally stifle his amusement.

"Pur, _what exactly_ do they find so hilarious?"

Purple sighed and looked up slowly. He made brief eye contact with Red before he shook his head, " _Damnit,_ Red…" and his focus turned to his feet.

"What? What the hell is going on?"

"Maybe I'm just ignorant of Irken mating practices," Lard Nar stifled another laugh, "but I'm fairly sure there's no possible way Red did that to himself."

"I can tell you all about them, in detail, if you'd like." Was Purple's snide reply.

"Start with explaining why our dear friend Red looks like some kind of rabid Nosferatu attacked his neck."

The Vortian was not known for his comebacks, but both Red and Purple had to give him that one.

"Touché, Captain." Red replied with a conceding nod.

Purple smacked Red's arm, "Don't take _his_ side!"

"I'd listen, Red. If _that's_ just a _"love bite",_ I wouldn't want to make him mad."

Red immediately turned to Purple and gave a wolfish smirk, " _Love bite_?"

"You know something," the violet-eyed Irken began, "you all _suck_."

Lard Nar laughed, "Yes, but not as hard as _you_ , apparently."

Purple flushed again and desperately attempted to maintain a small shred of dignity.

"In more ways than one." Red replied with a wink.

"Here it goes. I'm holding _both_ of you responsible for this." Purple folded his arms, giving Spleenk and Lard Nar an irritated glare.

"All right, all right, I've had my fun." Red replied, wrapping his arms around Purple's waist and drawing the Irken to his chest. Arms still crossed, the violet-eyed Irken was still clearly irritated as Red nuzzled into the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, Pur, I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"It's _your_ fault, you know. If you hadn't told me to bite so hard, we wouldn't have this problem."

Red was puzzled for a moment, and then let out a small laugh that dissolved into a sigh. "Only _you_. I make a horribly crude insinuation and you're upset over a bite mark."

"I can be upset about that too, if you want."

"No, that's okay. I'd rather have you _not_ be upset at all." He said, resting his chin on the other Irken's shoulder, "I want you to be happy."

Purple exhaled and leaned backward, his upper body falling slack against Red's chest. "I know. And I am."

"Can the two of you kiss and make up later? Like _much later_? As in "not-in-front-of-me" later?" The Captain asked.

Spleenk lightly smacked the Vortain's arm.

"What was that for?!"

"Would you let them have a minute?"

"Oh come on. You're going to tell me that you _don't_ have a problem with it?"

"Actually, I think it's kinda cute."

Lard Nar watched as Purple reoriented himself to face his partner so that their foreheads pressed together and antennae intertwined. Red gently nuzzled into Purple, whose small smile instantly grew in response to the gesture. He happily returned it with something in his eyes Lard Nar didn't recall ever seeing Purple display but instantly recognized. Innocence. Satisfaction. Happy.

Red's glance were neither lewd nor suggestive. His eyes looked at Purple as if he were the only thing in the room. He seemed to radiate a deep adoration and a strange, almost-bashful shyness toward his partner. The Vortian exhaled, shaking his head.

"Am I right or what?" Spleenk asked with a grin.

Lard Nar grumbled under his breath.

"Sorry, 'Nar, I missed that one. _What_ exactly were you saying?"

Crossing his arms in an irritated fashion, the Captain gave Spleenk a disagreeable look, "You're not _serious_ about that, right?"

"Of course I am." He replied cheerfully, "Just say you think they're cute and I'll stop holding it over your head."

Another long exhale. "Okay, you're right. They're…cute." Lard Nar made a sour face, "Ugh, I feel like I need to rinse my mouth out with engine cleaner. You just _love_ to antagonize me, don't you?"

"I like to fancy it a sport. I think Red would agree."

"Oh, rapture."

"You're wound _way_ too tight. Learn to loosen up a bit." Spleenk planted a light kiss on the unsuspecting Vortian's cheek.

The Captain startled immediately. "Was that… did you just kiss me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Spleenk shrugged with a smile, "I felt like it."

"Oh. Okay, then."

"Are we _interrupting_ anything?" Red asked with a devious smirk, in a tone of voice that made Lard Nar cringe.

"Nah. I'm good for now." Spleenk replied congenially. "How's that bite of yours?"

"I asked for it, so I'm not really in the position to complain."

"So, what was the announcement about?" Purple asked, rolling his eyes at his partner's behavior, turning the focus of the conversation to a more productive route.

Spleenk took the hint and explained the short version of what they'd missed, "The postal system ain't what it used to be, I guess, because the IDA must've gotten a sample of the real drug _They_ intend to use. The scientists had to have run tests on it because the building was raided and they're all dead, except for one guy. They're calling him a terrorist and there's a bounty of a million monies for whoever brings him in. We're thinking that if they want him _that_ badly, it's probably a good idea for us to find him first."

Purple nodded in agreement. "You guys are getting the hang of this."

"It was Lard Nar's idea," he said, grinning in the Vortian's direction, "he's the one who made the connection."

Purple acknowledged Lard Nar with a friendly pat on his shoulder, "And you said you weren't fit to be a Captain."

The Vortian modestly shrunk in response to the compliment, "Thanks." He replied, not sure of how else he should respond.

"While you two were in surgery we made a few discoveries about our mystery patient in the Psych Ward." Spleenk offered.

"What'd you find out?"

"Mei did her thing and talked to him telepathically. She's gonna brief us on the details once everyone gets here so we're all on the same page. When we took some x-rays, we found something metal imbedded in his cervical vertebrae. I don't know what to make of it, but I think it's some kind of tech, and I think it's _Theirs_. Mei has a theory that it used to have some kind of personality imprint on it. Oh, and he's legally dead."

"I swear, you miss _one day_ around here and you might as well have missed a decade." Purple commented.

"Wait. A _personality imprint_ in his head?" Red asked.

Spleenk smiled, "I knew that would get your attention. I've got the x-rays and I was hoping you would take a look at them to see what, if anything, you could figure out. I don't know much about how those things work, so it's all just conjecture at this point."

"You realize you're saying that you think they stuck a separate personality in this guy's head and _completely_ rewired his brain, right?"

"Yep."

Red exhaled, "Well… it's not _impossible_ , I suppose. It's just… you can't go and 'install' a second personality in somebody's brain. There'd be no way to control how to switch between them; they wouldn't recognize each other. Both brains would have to be complementary, in terms of how they're mapped. By that, I mean the guy wouldn't be able to breathe or perform basic functions because the way his _original_ nervous system worked is totally different from whatever 'new body' it would be in. Maybe with an Irken you could do that, but it'd only work to the extent of wiping and replacing a single personality. The Pak is technically just an override, though. Since we do know how to reformat and reprogram it, I guess it follows that the same can be done to the brain. The brain essentially functions like a computer. I assume that if you can make a machine run parallel operating systems, there's no reason why you couldn't do it with a living brain, given the proper technology. Maybe you're not so far off the mark."

"…Um, can you translate that for the rest of us, Purple?" The Captain asked with confusion written on his face.

It took him a moment, but the violet-eyed Irken nodded and replied, "For two personalities to be in one brain at the same time, they'd have to operate with as little overlap as possible in regard to the physical parts of the brain. You can do stuff to reprogram an Irken's personality because the Pak overrides the _real_ personality. All that is based on software and programs. Screwing around with live brain tissue is a whole different story. Then again, living brains behave very similar to computers, and all you would need to do is improve the tech." He glanced at his partner, "Is that what you meant?"

"Yeah." Red answered, "You know, this stuff really isn't all that complicated. I don't see why nobody else can keep up with me."

"In fairness, he's had way more practice in _that_ area." Spleenk commented with an amused grin.

Red laughed, "Very true."

Purple rolled his eyes in response and the Captain just cradled his forehead in his palm.

"So yeah, see what you can get from the x-rays." Lard Nar said, steering the conversation back on course. "It's our only lead right now, and we can't afford to waste time. Just because we've settled down doesn't mean They have. They have a plan, and every day we spend trying to figure it out is one more day it advances. We've been behind from the start, and we need to get moving because they haven't slowed down."

Everyone's expression turned serious as the Captain's words ran through their minds. It was so easy to give in to the illusion of safety. Here, in hiding, at an underground facility where they had food, clothes, and shelter, literally off the radar, it was so easy to distance themselves from the immediacy of danger. The notion of becoming comfortable and complacent was so tempting.

"I almost hate that things have been so calm lately." Purple commented idly to no one in particular.

"Why's that?" Spleenk asked.

"You can't miss something if you don't know what it feels like."

Red sighed, "All right. Show me the x-rays. I need to feel like I'm doing something productive."

Spleenk nodded, "I should probably get back on that research terminal, too. I think I've got an idea."

"About what?"

"I don't know yet. But I'll tell you when I find out." He smiled.

Red just shrugged. "Lead the way."

* * *

He entered the room as quietly as possible. The lights were still off, and he didn't want to wake his co-leader.

"Hey, Cy." Phthalo's exhausted voice was hoarse and raw.

"You probably shouldn't talk, Phthalo… you don't sound so good. Um, did they… they didn't give you anything for the pain, did they?"

"I was gonna ask if you could get something from the MedLab."

Cyanine sighed and approached the other Irken, "One step ahead of you." He said with a small, slight smile as he revealed a sample-sized bottle of heavy-duty pain-blockers. "I'll get you something to drink."

Phthalo nodded as much as his body would allow and Cyanine disappeared into the bathroom, bringing back a full glass with him. Setting it down on the bedside table, he looked to the other, "Can you sit up?"

Phthalo didn't reply at first. "…No."

"It's okay. I'll help you."

The blue-eyed Tallest hissed sharply in pain as he was helped into an upright position.

Cyanine looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "Here," he said, placing two pills in Phthalo's slightly shaking hands, "take these."

Phthalo nodded and swallowed the pills obediently before lying back down. "Thanks."

"It's nothing. I…I'm sorry I screwed up."

The other Irken just shrugged tiredly. "Wasn't your fault. Couldn't have known."

"Yeah, but I _should have_."

"Eh. I'll heal."

"Until _next time_." Cyanine muttered bitterly.

"I'll heal after that, too."

He sighed angrily, "I fucking hate this."

Phthalo nodded in agreement with a laugh that wasn't happy in the slightest, "Me too."

"Is… is there anything else I can do?"

"Stay?" The word hardly came out.

Cyannine nodded in affirmation, pulling a chair closer to the bed. "Don't worry, I'll stay."

Phthalo relaxed and closed his eyes, "Thanks…"

* * *

Dib took a deep breath to collect himself before opening his front door. He watched his hand turn the knob and knew there was no going back now. Exhaling, he crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him. If only Gaz had been home earlier, he could've gotten this out of the way when he and Zim had raided the basement lab. Of course, had she been at home, it might have made their original goal a bit more difficult.

"…Hey, Gaz,"

"Go away before I break your face!"

Oh yes. This was going well.

He took a breath and headed for his room, loading his backpack with extra clothes and other various human survival accessories. He wasn't sure he'd ever see a toothbrush again, so he packed several (just in case). Dib expected to feel some kind of longing when he took one last look at his bedroom but found that he lacked any sense of attachment; it felt instead as if the room was forcing him out like an unwelcome intruder than inviting him in with wistful nostalgia. He wasn't even going to bother with Gaz on his way out, until she addressed him unexpectedly.

"Where are _you_ going?" With her typical degree of contempt and disdain.

He sighed, "… Out."

She rolled here eyes, never diverting her focus from her handheld game unit, "Like I'm stupid enough to fall for that. You never go _anywhere_."

"I've got stuff to do."

"Chasing after Zim again?"

"Sort of. Yeah, you could say that."

She sighed in exasperation. "You cut class today."

"And?"

"You're gonna get in _so much_ trouble."

"Gaz, I could disappear and nobody would notice."

She shrugged, "Eh, you're probably right. Is this your idea of teenage rebellion?"

"Yes. I'm on my way to buy a guitar so I can lock myself in my room all night and play _Screaming Infidelities_ while I cry alone and slit my writs with the sharp edges of my lonely, broken heart. I plan to start raiding your closet for clothes and write poetry about dying alone."

Gaz laughed at the mental image. "Don't waste money on razorblades, Dib. I'll _always_ hurt you for free."

"If you've ever made anything clear, I think _that's_ quite crystal."

"Just letting you know the offer's out there."

"I'm touched."

"So where are you _really_ going?"

"Away."

"Aw, too old for the Crazy House for Boys?" She snorted, "Dad committing you to the Defective Head-Meat Institute again?"

He sighed and shook his head, "He doesn't _care_ enough to commit me."

"Eh, yeah. I guess you're right. Wherever you're going, bring me back something for dinner."

"You really don't get it, do you, Gaz?"

"Go, do your thing. I don't care, just don't get in my way."

"You won't even notice."

"I'm still obligated to warn you. Being a blood-relative earns you that much of a reprieve."

"You're the greatest, _Sis_." He replied in a sugary-sweet voice.

"Yeah, I know."

He gave her a smile and sighed as he opened the door.

"…Dib, you _are_ coming back, right?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Maybe someday."

"Do you remember what happened the _last time_ you tried to run away?"

Dib laughed, "The only person who came after me was Zim, because he thought it was some kind of elaborate plan. The only reason anyone knew I wasn't around was because _Zim_ , of all people, reminded Dad."

"Yeah, but Dad had the _entire country_ looking for you. Just stop acting like a girl and grow a set. Everybody's got problems. Deal with it."

"Gaz, I finally have a chance to _do_ something. For the first time, I'm a part of something important, something bigger. I know you understand."

She seemed to be seriously considering her brother's words and took a long look at him. Taller and older, but still very much the same Dib she'd grown up with. Yes, she beat him bloody on more than a few (thousand) occasions, but they were family, and that was just what siblings _did_ sometimes. In retrospect, she probably could've been a little easier on him. She hadn't really considered the possibility of ever really being alone. She isolated herself intentionally and it was true that her brother's presence was enough to cause violent, terrible rage, but he had always been there to protect her (even if it was from someone as harmless as Zim). She'd never bothered to see any redeemable qualities in him before now.

"You know, I think I'm gonna miss you."

Dib smiled, "I'll see if I can find a way to keep in touch. Every so often."

"Don't get sentimental on me."

"Wouldn't dare."

"Good."

He waved with a smile and she offered a nod instead of "goodbye". The term had such finality to it and it made both of them uncomfortable. They might not have been able to tolerate each other for extended periods of time, but they shared a history. They had grown up together and practically raised each other, in the absence of their father. As a child, Dib had always given Gaz exactly what she wanted whenever she wanted it. In reality, she probably acted so selfish because he had not taught her the concepts of sharing or temperance. He wasn't much older than she was, so it was difficult to blame him. All he knew was that it had been his job to protect her. Dib could not afford the luxury of being frightened by typical childhood nightmares, because he _had to_ be the one showing Gaz that nothing was living under the bed or waiting in the closet. He had no time to be scared of bad dreams when he had a sister to coax out of her own.

After all the time he'd spent chasing after monsters to protect her from, Dib had finally found them. He'd never wanted to be wrong about _anything_ so badly before.

* * *

"Hey, Sweetheart," Purple said with a smile that morphed into concern as soon as he saw his partner's frustrated expression, "what's wrong?" He asked, pulling up a chair and sitting beside the other Irken.

"I've got _nothing_ , Pur."

"Step back and explain. I don't understand. Take a breath and talk to me." Purple replied in a slow, calming voice as he gently took Red's hand and offered a light, reaffirming squeeze.

Red exhaled heavily, shaking his head. "I get it, _conceptually_ , what they did to this poor son-of-a-bitch, I even get the theory behind it, but fuck me if I understand _how_ or _why_."

"Okay."

Red looked at his partner with confused eyes. "What?"

"I thought it might give you some incentive."

Red shook his head with a genuine smile, "How is it that you always know _exactly_ what to do? Whether it's a smile or a kiss or a kick in the ass, you know how to fix me."

"I'm just _that_ good."

"Indeed, you are."

They smiled in silence for a moment before Purple took a breath and squeezed Red's hand firmly in his grip. "So, why don't you tell me what you've figured out so far?"

"You don't have to humor me, Pur." He said, "I know you don't like this kind of stuff."

"Maybe talking it through with someone else will help you process the information better."

Red sighed, "Since you're _always_ right, I might as well avoid an argument."

Purple grinned and nodded, "You've got a _terrible_ record; I'd hate to add to it."

The other Irken rolled his eyes and shook his head. "All right. Well, the thing in his head isn't a neural relay. It looks just like an imprint, but they've got it in there so that the connections are organic."

"You mean it's physically a _part_ of him? Like, attached naturally?"

"That's what it looks like. The only deviation is an enormous cluster of nerves, but that could easily be an preexisting condition."

"Weren't you talking before about it being related to our internal backup system?"

He sighed, "If I knew how they made the neural connections and loaded a second personality into an organic brain, that would be my best guess. I just don't understand how the hell one of those would work in this instance. And don't even _start_ me on his brain activity. Not like we could get any magnetic images, but this guy is completely _all over_ the place. His temporal and parietal lobes are so jumbled up… it's like he's on high alert all the time." He shook his head. "If they hadn't specifically amplified the functionality of those structures, he'd be nothing but a parasympathetic nervous system."

The other Irken seemed to experience a revelation. "What's so important about those areas, Red?" He asked. " _Memory_. They process, access and store _memory._ If they cleared this guy out and if there really is an imprint of another person's consciousness wired into his head, maybe They really _did_ turn him into some kind of processor."

"It works in theory, Pur, but there's no basis for that in reality."

"No – Red… I think there _is_." He said pensively, "You've seen all the dots involved, just not how to connect them."

"Explain."

Purple took a breath and tried to organize his thoughts, "Okay. I'll stick with the computer metaphor because that's the only way I can understand this stuff. Say you've got an average computer and you've got data that you can't afford to lose. The easiest way is to do a mirror-image of the hard drive on a separate disk, right?"

Red nodded.

"The computer gets old and outdated, starts running slow, and everything else that that naturally happens with the progression of time. You find a replacement, but every computer comes with a hard drive in it. In this case, it's a secondhand computer so you can do one of two things: completely replace the old hard drive, which is clearly not possible here, or open it up and physically connect that extra disk _inside_ the new computer, right?"

"Of course, but you'd have to make sure the computer was configured to handle that sort of thing. It depends on the format of the disk and the operating system. Different parts of the computer do different things, you know."

"So you make sure the model is compatible and delete whatever software came with the operating system that's not vital to boot your disc image." Purple answered with a smile.

Red paused for a moment, "For the record, we're going to pretend it didn't take me _this_ long to figure that out."

Purple laughed quietly, "No one will ever know."

"We could be completely wrong, but it's the best theory we've got. I'm not sure how the _hell_ they managed to physically accomplish it, though."

"Well, maybe at the meeting we can ask Mei if she wouldn't mind getting into his head again and see what he remembers."

Red crossed his arms with a small frown, "I _still_ don't trust her."

"Why? You think she's spying on your brain-meats?" Purple laughed.

"I mean it, Pur. There's something shady going on and I don't like it."

"She risked her life and traveled over half the universe to get here, Red. She did that to help us."

"We don't know _why_ she's here. I don't like the idea of some random fortune-teller showing up from out of _nowhere_ and being welcomed with open arms."

"She's safeguarded by the Protectorate, Red."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Not just _anyone_ is appointed a Paladin from the Guild. The Elders have to approve all requests, and they've all got to be in agreement. None of the Paladins are permitted contact with the others while serving their duty. If they thought she was important enough to deserve a Paladin, I'd at least give her a chance."

"You don't think it's strange in the _least_ that she just walked right on board we took her in?"

"They took _us_ in, didn't they?"

"Yeah, but that's different."

"We agreed to take that kid with the oversized head on board, didn't we?"

"What's your point?"

"We don't know anything about him, Red. For all we know, he could still want to destroy us."

Red gave Purple a clearly disbelieving look, "I seriously doubt that one."

"So do I. But we're not exactly in the position to pick and choose our assets. We have to take what comes our way and make it work."

"I'm still going to keep an eye on her, you know."

"That's _fine_ , Red, I don't think we should trust her implicitly. I do think she deserves a chance. I think we _all_ deserve that."

* * *

Zim and Skoodge had just finished packing the last of the supplies into the modified Voot. It had originally looked like it was going to be a bit of a squeeze, but having attached the space-travel equivalent of a U-Haul, room was no longer an issue.

GIR, on the other hand, was exactly as much calamity as Zim had assumed. The Irken had developed an inexplicable… fondness (as much as it pained him to use the term in regard to himself) for the little metal menace, and despite his faults, the robot was a reliable companion; Zim was finally beginning to understand how invaluable an asset that sort of thing really was.

Admittedly, it was a little difficult to keep that in mind when the asset in question had covered itself in dough, went for a swim in the deep fryer, dumped a bag of confectioner's sugar on the floor and rolled around until he'd covered himself in it.

As soon as Dib opened the door, GIR pounced on him. "Ack, GIR! What are you covered in?"

"I'm a Zeppole!"

"I can see that."

"GIR!" Zim's voice, "I thought I told you to get cleaned up! We're leaving in _ten minutes_!"

"Ooh, is we goin' to Sea World?! I wanna dance with the bacon bits!"

"Yes, GIR. But _only_ if you get yourself clean and ready in five minutes."

GIR bolted out of the room at top speed, leaving a very exhausted Zim and a powdered-sugar-covered human teenager behind.

"Computer," the Irken sighed, "if you run the Kitchen Cleaning program I'll leave you with credits to download unlimited upgrades and new games."

"Cleaning protocol initiated." The response was immediate.

"So, did you guys get everything packed?" Dib asked in an attempt to make idle conversation.

Zim sighed, "Yes. Everything with the exception of GIR and you, Dib-stink, is ready to go."

"Good." Dib replied, noticing Zim's anxious expression. "…That _is_ good, right?"

"Of course, stupid human."

"Okay. Then why are you all... mopey?"

"Lies! Zim is not mopey!"

Dib rolled his eyes and exhaled, "Fine. How about dejected? Down? Depressed? Uneasy? I've got more synonyms if you want."

"Foolish child, Zim has no need for cinnamons!"

Dib slapped his forehead, "Come on, Zim, I _know_ you're not dumb."

The Irken crossed his arms, frustrated for a moment. Finally, he sighed, revealing a confused and exhausted expression.

"Was that so hard?" Dib asked.

" _Yes_ , Pig-Smelly. As a matter of fact, it _was_."

The human nodded. "It's okay, you know. If stuff's not okay."

Zim shot the other a perplexed look.

"What I mean is, it's okay to not be okay." He let out a dissatisfied noise, "It's normal to feel like shit. There, _that's_ what I'm trying to say."

"…Normal?" Raising an absent eyebrow, he seemed to say, _"are you seriously going to apply the word "normal" to_ me _"_.

Dib shrugged hopelessly, "It's fine to feel the way you do."

Zim let out a heavy sigh, "I think I am experiencing what you feeble creatures refer to as "nostalgia". I hate this planet. All I've ever wanted to do was destroy it. While I certainly wouldn't say that I _like_ it here, I think… I think I will miss it – to a _very small_ degree. My _base_ , at least."

The boy smiled slightly, "Me too. To a _very small_ degree."

Zim found mutual understanding in the human's eyes and relaxed. "All right. Are you and your large head ready to get off this ball of filth?"

Dib rolled his eyes, "Yes, Zim."

"GIR!" The Irken called.

The robot responded near immediately. "Yes, Sir!"

"Come with your Master and the Large-Headed Child! It's time to go!"

"Yay!" He shouted, leaping to grasp Dib's head, "Giddyup, Auntie Em! Fish sticks talk to me!"

"That doesn't surprise me in the least." The boy replied, heading toward the elevator with Zim.

They arrived on the appropriate floor and found Skoodge in the control room. "Hey guys, everything's ready to go. I loaded the directions into the NavSat and we're clear for departure."

"Excellent work, Skoodge. I can navigate wormholes, but not in Quantumspace."

"Right. The room with the moose." Dib nodded.

Skoodge just looked utterly perplexed, "What moose?"

"Zim tried to send our class on a field trip through a wormhole that lead to a room with a moose a few years ago."

"Oh. Gotcha."

"Shouldn't we phone your leaders and let them know we're on our way?" Dib asked.

"Zim was just about to do that, for your information, pointy-haired Dib-filth." He replied. "Computer! I would appreciate it greatly if you could place a call for me."

"Sure… I guess." It replied.

"You have proved a hugely competent device, Computer. Zim appreciates your existence."

"Uh, thanks a lot, Master…." It replied, not really sure what else to say.

After a few rings, the trio was greeted by the familiar faces of Sally and her assistant. "I bid you greetings, Blob-Girl and Three-Headed-Man."

"My name's Urr, and that's Sally."

Sally made a pleased half-gargle, half-moan.

"She says, _"it's nice to see you again"_. Should I put you through to Red and Purple?"

"That'd be great."

"Hang on just a second."

They waited on hold in the same manner as they had earlier, but the call was picked up quickly.

"Hey Zim." Purple greeted.

"So, are we _ever_ going to see you? It feels like we've been trying to get you out here forever."

"Fear not, my T- my friends, Zim's Voot is Quantum-ified and fully functional! Skoodge and the filthy worm-child-filled-with-taco-grease are with me, and we are due to depart in roughly five minutes."

"Good. Glad to hear it."

"Cookies!" Came the happy shout of the blue-eyed robot, "We goin' to Sea World, ain't we, Master? Lookit me, I can unscrew my head!" GIR proclaimed, doing just that.

Zim cringed, "Um, yes, my- yeah. We'll see you shortly. Zim, out!"

Red sighed as he placed a hand to his forehead.

"What's wrong? Do you think it was a bad idea to ask them here?"

"No, not at all. It's just…" he shook his head, hopelessly staring at the ceiling, "I don't know _what_ we're going to do with that little robot."

Purple gave a small laugh. "If I remember it right, _we're_ the ones responsible for creating it."

Red offered an amused look, "From broken SIR parts, a frozen yogurt machine, and whatever we had in our pockets. We'd make _horrible_ parents."

"You think so?"

"Aside from the fact that we know absolutely _nothing_ about how to properly raise a child? Without access to the Hatchery, we lack the means necessary to even _make_ said child in the first place."

"Hypothetically, then. Not _now_ , but, you know, say this all works out in the end and we win. If we _could_ have kids, would you want to?"

"…I've considered it before. We've been through so much and I think I'd like to focus on _us_ for a while. I know we've been together for a long time, but we haven't exactly had the chance for a simple life. A kid would be so much extra stress and responsibility."

"I think we'd do okay."

" _Look_ at us, Baby. Think about how much we've suffered. Think about _Them_. Would you really want to bring a child into a world with _Them_ in it? Or a world that _had_ them in it?" He asked, "Look at what's going on right now. We're all here, putting our lives on the line because the Universe is falling apart. I can't give someone I love a burden like that. I can't bring myself to hand the mess everything has become over to someone who didn't ask for it. I don't think I could handle looking at a piece of you every day, knowing that eventually I'm going to die and it will be alone for the rest of it's life because neither of us are going to live forever. Like I said, I've seriously considered it before and I realized that it wouldn't be just pain, heartbreak and vulnerability for the two of us – it'd be all those things on the child as well. When you bring something perfect into the world, it gets destroyed. I couldn't do that to a child."

Purple frowned, but nodded and appeared to accept Red's argument. "Okay."

"Are you _really_ okay, or are you just saying that because you're uncomfortable?"

"I'm fine, Red, and I mean it. I know you're right… sometimes, I get carried away." He sighed, "I guess we should get ourselves to the docking bay, shouldn't we?"

"Good idea. We might want to prep the area, just in case. Get anything even potentially flammable far, _far_ away." He paused to look at his partner with a look of frightened revelation. "We'll never do it in fifteen minutes."

"Let's go, I'll call the reinforcements."

* * *

By the time the Voot docked, the area had been coated with a flame-retardant spray. After waiting a few moments for the cruiser's engine to come to a complete, dead stop, the Captain entered the bay with the two tall Irkens in tow. Everyone had begun to make their way down the exit ramp when a happy squeal erupted from within the transport and GIR burst out, successfully knocking Zim, Dib, and Skoodge over; the trio tumbling to the floor as the SIR unit made a mad dash toward the Captain. He leapt into the air and hugged his head.

"Honey, I'm home!" He cried ecstatically, "I want biscuits!"

The Captain groaned and attempted to pry the affectionate metal robot off. Red and Purple giggled quietly amongst themselves.

"GIR!" Zim called, racing over to assist the situation, "Do not jump on the Captain!"

"Awww…" he said, staring guiltily at the floor. Less than a second later, the robot perked right up and latched onto Red's leg with a _"SQUEE"_ and a large grin.

Red just stared with a puzzled expression at the SIR unit and shrugged.

"I am so sorry, My T-" Zim had to correct himself, "Red, he really likes new people; GIR, you _will_ listen to your Master and let go of his leg _this instant_!"

The SIR until didn't seem the least bit interested in what Zim had to say, "Janet hadda stay at home, but you can be my friend now!"

"Janet?" Purple asked.

Zim just sighed and shook his head. "His latest piggy-friend. He's got a new one every week. At least, I _think_ they're new. Might be the same one with a new name. I'm never sure."

"Hate to break it to you, Little Buddy," Red started, "he staked his claim a long time ago." He gave a nod in Purple's direction.

He finally released the red-eyed Irken's leg, "D'aaww… ain't they _cute_ , Master?" The robot swooned.

Purple scratched the back of his head with a hint of embarrassment on his cheeks and Red replied, " _Of course_ we are."

"It's so precious," GIR bawled melodramatically, and then seconds later reached into his head and found a loaf of bread and two jars, one of mayonnaise and the other maple syrup and began to make himself a sandwich.

"He's really going to eat that, isn't he? Oh – there he goes." Purple replied, disturbed but not really that surprised.

Sure enough, the SIR unit tossed the sandwich in the air and jumped toward it, catching the entire thing in his mouth.

"Red,"

"It's my fault, I know. I thought a little random programming would be kinda… neat."

"Just _how "neat"_ were you thinking?" Purple asked, his eyes heavily scrutinizing his partner.

"Well, you know how SIR units are programmed to have free will _only_ if the mission is threatened?"

"Yes, Dear. Go on." Purple knew. He just wanted to hear Red's explanation for why.

" _They'd_ been working on that system for the Pak, you know, the one they wanted to start programming smeets with to completely eliminate free will… I thought if I could figure out, based on what kind of program they'd been testing on SIR units," Red took a breath to collect his thoughts, "I thought I could get the jump on them and figure it out before they did. That way, I could work my own program to override _Theirs_. I couldn't run a simulation because _They'd_ be able to track it. I reconfigured a blank SIR motherboard and fitted it with everything standard, except for some… behavioral adjustments. I kept it in my Pak for a bit but I didn't know how to test it and I figured nobody would care about why it was different if I stuck it in Zim's robot."

"So wait," Dib said, "GIR is a legitimate AI?"

Red sighed, "As strange as it sounds, he's, uh… yeah. Yes." Red sighed, "Yes, he is."

The attention of the room turned to the floor, where the robot was playing with a little toy airplane.

"I'm not quite sure I understand." Skoodge replied.

"I didn't give him moral absolutes. Just programmed him with facts and he developed his own personality. Like an infant."

"I always assumed that without morals, it would be impossible to understand _why_ something is bad. Like serial killing." Lard Nar replied.

Red shook his head, "It's true that you can't program _understanding_ the same way you can _knowledge_. But my theory was that if given free will and as much unbiased information as possible, the logical decision-making part would make "morally good" choices, most of the time. The more _experience_ it acquired, the more "accessible" the information would be. It would eventually have the potential to develop passions and reasoning and genuine empathy."

GIR was now rolling around on the floor with glee.

"…Clearly, it might've been a little more effective if I had taken given it a trial run."

"You're brilliant, Love, but you might've over-estimated your ability. Next time, double-check."

"Smart ass." Red playfully retorted.

"Objectively, yes, I'm smart – though it has nothing to do with my ass."

"And somehow, the conversation goes from insightful and intellectual to innuendo in less than a second." Lard Nar sighed, explaining to the new arrivals.

"Well, I mean… I guess it kinda… cute?" Dib tried, failing to articulate the sentiment he wished to express.

The Captain folded his arms across his chest, "Sure, they're cute _now._ Take the bunk next to them and _then_ tell me how cute they are."

The boy went rigid and cringed, "No, no, I'm fine taking your word for it. _"Cute"_ wasn't what I meant, though. Not, you know, that I'm trying to be offensive or anything, I wasn't using the word in regard to physical attributes; I mean, I'm sure as far as Irkens go, you both meet the general standard but oh my God this is embarrassing and I keep digging myself deeper, why am I still talking?"

Zim laughed quietly, covering his mouth with both hands and Skoodge appeared to be making a serious effort to suppress his amusement with an expression much like the Captain.

"As long as he still thinks I'm pretty," Purple replied with a small smile, nodding toward Red, "I don't care about what I look like."

The red-eyed Irken couldn't resist the urge to wrap his arms around his partner's waist so Purple's back was flush against his chest. Nuzzling gently into the crook of his neck, Red sighed with a contented expression, speaking low enough for Purple to hear. "You still make my head spin."

Purple gave a small laugh, "Your spontaneous romantic compulsions make me laugh."

"Good." He murmured, "You don't do that enough."

"AWWWWwww! It's just like a movie, ain't it, Master?" The SIR unit was watching intently with a bag of popcorn, dabbing his robot eyes with a tissue.

"Oh, um… sorry about that." Purple managed, despite his embarrassment.

"…Part of me is violently disturbed, and another part of me is violently disturbed that another part of me actually found that display of affection somewhat… _endearing_." Zim managed, nearly choking on the word "endearing".

"Right there with you, Buddy." Skoodge replied, his expression of sheer puzzlement and discomfort echoing Zim's.

"You get used to it." The Captain offered, "If that's any kind of consolation."

"Oh come on," Dib said, "that was completely innocent!"

"I may not have the receptors anymore, Filthy Worm-Baby, but this is the equivalent of watching your sister make out with… if you had a another sibling, it'd be like watching that."

Dib cringed and recoiled. " _Gross, Zim_!"

"Yeah, well, Skoodge and I grew up with them, so that's pretty much what it's like."

"It's probably not my business, but, uh… wasn't it weird for you when, you… um, you know…." Skoodge tried, immediately regretting the words had ever left his mouth.

"You mean, did it feel like that for us?" Purple asked.

Skoodge nodded reluctantly.

"No. I always felt differently about Red. As far back as the first time we met."

"He kissed me."

Purple rolled his eyes, "I was a smeet!"

"You _still_ kissed me."

"On the _cheek_." Purple retorted, "It's not like I stuck my tongue down your throat and tried to seduce you."

Red was about to respond with _"Just a matter of time, Baby"_ , but caught himself before he let them past his lips. He knew Purple's guilt would obscure his ability to see that Red intended it to be a joke; a tease in reference to Purple's ability to wrap Red around his finger with a simple kiss.

"What's wrong, Red?" Purple asked.

"Later." Red replied, "In private. This isn't the time or place. I honestly promise that I'm okay; it's just something I meant to talk to you about sooner and it slipped my mind."

"Yeah, of course." Purple turned his attention back to the group, "Sorry… what were we talking about?"

"How you met." The human answered.

"Oh, yeah. Red walked up to me, asked me to be his friend, and told me I was the prettiest Irken he'd ever met; I told him I thought he was pretty, too, and kissed him on the cheek. I didn't have a reason for it."

"We haven't really been able to figure out what was so different about us and our receptors from everybody else, though." Red frowned.

"Zim and I have a theory about that," Dib began, "I know my knowledge is limited at best, but Zim was able to fill in most of the blanks, and I think what we've come up with works pretty well."

The former Tallest exchanged surprised expressions before giving Dib their attention.

"What are you thinking?" Red asked curiously.

"Um, well, to sum it up, we think that as Irkens evolved over time, they naturally developed a chemical resistance to the receptors. Whoever these people are would have to keep the programming up-to-date. They can't do that _all the time_ , though, so in every generation there are bound to be _some_ anomalies. We think your generation might've turned out a significant number of them, since Zim mentioned that the number of "Trials" and "defects" increased in the generations prior, and yours specifically."

"It's solid so far." The red-eyed Irken responded, "But why _us_? Why our generation, in particular?"

Zim awkwardly raised his hand and tried not to look guilty. "Um… that'd be my fault. Most likely."

"How do you figure that?" Purple asked, completely confused.

"…Horrible, Painful Overload Day."

"It's just a theory, since I don't know how that whole system works, but we think that when Zim killed the power, it killed the power to whatever's supposed to program you. In event of a forced-shutdown on account of corrupt data, at least on Earth, a computer will resort to it's last known good configuration. We think your Paks were formatted with old programming."

"…I'm really trying to find a hole in your theory. I'm trying really, _really_ hard but I'm coming up empty." Red replied.

"Zim, I kind of want to give you a hug." Purple said.

"Eh?" The smaller alien screwed his face in confusion, "…um, why?"

"I second that." Red commented, "Why?"

"Because without _him_ , I wouldn't ever have been in love with _you_."

Red sighed, almost in relief, "Good."

"Jealous, much?" Purple teased.

"Yes." His partner replied, tightening his embrace.

Purple just rolled his eyes with a smile.

"All right, we've got a meeting to get to. I'll have to give you three the grand tour after the meeting. I'll get one of the staff to move your things into your quarters, let's go."

* * *

Mei surveyed the people around her in quiet contemplation as the Captain called the meeting to order. An interesting variance of emotions touched her mind. She could easily sense which were specific to who, simply by looking at them. Tenn was very tense and troubled, and highly suspicious, as opposed to Shloonktapooxis, who could not be more pleased. Tak was bitter and resentful at the moment, but still satisfied with her accomplishment on the Quantum Engine. Though Red and Purple shared a playful, easygoing feeling, they were both worried and constantly on-edge. Even if they survived this and lived until they achieved what her people had, Mei was fairly certain that their acquired "paranoia" would never die. She felt guilty at the thought but refused to let the sentiment manifest on her face.

"The purpose of this meeting is to get everyone up to speed on recent events. We've got some new faces on board, so look around the room and get comfortable with these people – you're going to be trusting them with your life. I hate to rush through introductions, but we've got a lot to get through and precious little time to do it. If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm your Captain and to my right is my first mate, Shloonktapooxis. I've restructured how things are going to work from here on out, but I'll explain thatlater." He went around the table, making sure everyone was introduced, "You've all been briefed on everything up through our rescue mission on Vort, where we picked up a very unstable prisoner with no identification."

"By _unstable_ ," Spleenk clarified, "he means an extreme case of anxiety, panic, and is a small threat to himself."

"How so?" Skoodge asked.

"Slams his head into the wall repeatedly. Tries to eat _anything_ you leave in front of him. Paper, plastic, you name it – he'll eat it. I think it's more a learned instinct than anything else. I get the impression they didn't exactly keep him well-fed."

"But there's something special about him, though, or you wouldn't be talking about him, right?"

Lard Nar nodded, "The Earth-Child's assessment is correct. Imaging scans… Red, why don't you explain them?"

The red-eyed Irken nodded, sitting up straighter, "We found a piece of tech imbedded in his cervical vertebrae,"

"The part of his spine closest in proximity into his brain." Purple explained as a point of clarification.

"Right." Red responded before continuing, "They shoved something in his brainstem and connected it to his neural system _directly_. It's not connected like the Pak or a neural relay device, though the tech itself _does_ resemble an Irken personality profile backup. Our doctors managed to map out his brain while he was unconscious. It's like his brain has basically been cleared out, and they amped up the neurological activity in the parts they left functional, all of which relate to memory. Our resident fortune-teller recently got inside his head and says she's put some pieces together."

Mei took a breath, "Thank you, Red. Though I am not a "fortune-teller", in the traditional sense, I am the last of the known Yu Jian. My race is very old; what races of this age would call "ancients". We achieved enlightenment and reached the pinnacle of evolution though establishing a harmony with the energies of the universe. Our abilities are no more based on magic than universal physics. The things I do stem from the simple observation of energy and manipulation thereof. Because of this, I was able to establish a telepathic connection with his unconscious mind. I was wary that entering into his mind on my own might reawaken even more trauma, and while it would have been infinitely more definitive to observe his memories directly, I thought the safer option was to discuss it with him."

"Wait – _where, exactly_ , did you say you came from?" Zim asked suspiciously.

"A small moon, just beyond the rim. I waited there with my protector until the signs I was told to look for came to pass. None of that is relevant to the discussion." She said, before continuing her explanation. "The patient said his name was Pethra. We cross-referenced that name with his picture, and discovered he was declared legally dead twelve years ago. Apparently, he had been an archaeologist on a dig when he discovered texts that he claims contradicted much of established history. He also discovered some sort of info-disc, which he claims they tortured him for. I do not know how he managed to keep it hidden. He also spoke of a being called "Grel". He claimed that this creature would speak to him, but that he lacked physical form. Pethra referred to it as Grel's "echo", and claimed he was "put inside" his head by the "bad men". Pethra says he has experienced many of Grel's memories, though we did not discuss specific events."

"That makes sense, at least in terms of what Red and I concluded about the implant he's got." Purple replied.

"I'm still having a hard time believing you can translate _sentience_ into lines of code." Dib maintained. "Thoughts and memory is one thing – but _awareness_ … that's a whole different issue."

"That's because you come from a backwater planet that hasn't figured out fusion yet." Tak quipped.

"Easy now, everybody." Spleenk interrupted, "We haven't got time to hurl insults at the moment. After the meeting, feel free, but right now, the fact of the matter is that we're running out of time. Every second we spend in the dark is another second we fall behind and right now, we've got a ridiculous amount of catching up to do."

Both Tak and Dib looked away and remained quiet like scolded children.

"So, what _do_ we know about that… Grel thing?" Skooge asked, "It's got to be important if they'd go through all that trouble."

"All Pethra told me was that he had a message for someone important. I believe," Mei began hesitantly, "I believe that this may have to do with the prophecy I have seen."

Red rolled his eyes and sighed, making his frustration obvious, "I'm sorry, but I _can't_ be the only one a little wary of chasing down what in the grand scheme of things is ultimately a _guess_."

"…There's a prophecy?" Dib asked, then turning to Zim, "Did you know about this?"

Zim's expression simply read: _did you_ really _just ask that question_?

"Right. Sorry."

"Mei here gave us a vague little glimpse into the future not even _she_ understands." Red answered, "So pardon me if I don't feel like risking our lives on a hunch, I find myself lacking a sense of adventure."

"She _has_ a point, Sweetheart."

"Don't you try to " _Sweetheart_ " me, I've known you too long. Are you _seriously_ going to agree with this?" The red-eyed former Tallest asked incredulously, as if his partner had gone mad.

"Easy, Love. Breathe a minute," he said, taking Red's hand, "nobody is making any decisions yet. We've barely gotten started with laying things out on the proverbial table. I think above all else, we need to preserve our resources and take as many precautions as we can; but one thing we _can't_ do is sit around and wait. Regardless of whether some prophecy comes true or not, if it gets us someplace helpful in the end, what difference does it make? That's all I meant."

Red managed to calm down as Purple spoke. "Sometimes I hate when you make sense."

"At least you're man enough to admit it."

"Are you insinuating I'm not,"

"I can see this conversation going a thousand different ways and _none of them_ are good!" Lard Nar interjected.

"You're no fun at all, 'Nar." The red-eyed Irken scowled.

"There's nothing to worry about Red," Spleenk started with a smile, "no one who's been within five hundred feet of your bunk doubts the capability of your manliness."

" _Spleenk!_ "

"Would you have preferred the term "manhood"? It sounded a little too blatant for my taste." He grinned at the unsettled Captain, who cringed even more severely.

"That was _so not necessary_!"

"Of course it was." Red responded in a pleased voice.

"Fuck my life…" Purple groaned, hiding his face in his hands and shaking his head, shrinking in his seat.

"I didn't think voyeurism was your kind of thing." Red teased.

"Welcome to the resistance, new recruits." Purple sighed.

"Come on, Purple, you're _just_ as guilty." Spleenk grinned.

The violet-eyed Irken grumbled.

"They called us out of bed this morning." Red explained casually, "You'll have to excuse him, I'm sure it's just misdirected frustration."

"You certainly seem to want it focused on _you_."

Red flashed a sly grin, "I _always_ want you focused on me."

"Keep it up, Red. See where it gets you."

"Last time you said _that_ neither of us could get outof bed."

"Oh you'll be in bed, all right. With a concussion."

"Doesn't mean it's any less true." He grinned.

"No. And I _still_ outlasted you." He replied, smirking.

"That's debatable."

Spleenk laughed, "How is _that_ debatable?"

"He cheated." Red huffed, somewhat annoyed as he folded his arms across his chest.

" _How_ exactly did I do _that_?"

"You called it a draw _before_ … you know."

"Holy shit, Red _didn't_ describe our romantic intimacy in painfully graphic terms! I might die of shock."

"You _still_ cheated."

"And you're _still_ hilariously bitter about it."

"You'll get used to this." Lard Nar explained after his brain had gone numb, "... Eventually."

Dib didn't really know _what_ to think or how to react, since he had assumed from his very first interaction with them that the former Tallest were "married" – or whatever the Irken equivalent was. Maybe he was too overwhelmed by everything else to really be bothered by it. Zim, however, had a _very strong_ reaction, quite similar, in fact, to the Captain's response. Skoodge appeared disturbed, somewhere between shock and the outward manifestation of the common stomach flu. Tak, though she'd begun to adjust, still found she had yet to become comfortable. Tenn seemed to be at ease, and Shloonktapooxis gave no indication he felt anything other than normal.

"…Zim?" Dib tried in a very cautious voice.

The alien shook himself back into reality with a small shudder. "Pardon my reaction, I meant no disrespect; Zim is still not accustomed to viewing the two of you in such an…" he cringed, "intimate capacity."

"You don't have to apologize; we're not the Tallest anymore."

"It's… all right. It will just take some getting used to."

"You can say _that_ again." Skoodge agreed.

"So, Mei." The Captain redirected the conversation to its previous focus. "You're saying that you think that this patient might be a link of some kind?"

"I believe that _Grel_ is our link. If what Red and Purple theorized holds true, it means that this creature's consciousness has been preserved for a long time. He is the only connection to the history we can't find. Clearly, he had something to do with Irk, since these people were willing to go to such extraordinary lengths to keep his mind alive. No one can argue that he has information vital to Them. Prophecy aside, it seems to be our only lead at this point, and it is my opinion that it is worth pursuing."

Red's expression tightened, but he did not speak out.

"Pethra, the patient, has supposedly been dead for twelve years." Spleenk explained, "Irk sponsored the dig he was sent on, and the only information documented was that the Tallest ended the expedition prematurely. With the laser cannon."

"We've _never_ had an issue with premature detonation." Red replied.

"Whatever I'm being punished for _better_ have been worth it." Lard Nar grumbled to himself.

"Oh my God, I'm an _idiot!_ " Spleenk blurted out, slapping his forehead, "How did I _not_ think of that _before_?!

"Um, Spleenk… would you like to share your revelation with the rest of the class?" Red asked, equal parts interested and confused.

"We've been scouring the Universal Database this whole time, looking for information on Irk, and all we've found is Irken military history, right?"

"Yeah. Everything else has been wiped so clean it might as well have never happened at all." The Captain answered.

"One thing we _know_ about Them is that they're organized. Methodical. They cover _every_ base so there's little to no margin for error. It's why they're so strong. They've been playing this game for a long time, and _that's_ got to be one of the reasons why they left the military history intact. _That's_ the arrogant slip-up I've been missing – it was in front of me the whole time and I was so focused on what _wasn't_ there that I didn't even bother to think about what _was_. We know they have a plan, so we _know_ that what they've done so far has been working toward it. Everything they've done, _every_ planet they conquered or species they erased… all of it was done for a _reason_. If we go through the military history chronologically and look for patters or similarities, there's no reason we can't use that to anticipate future threats."

"Red and I did some unauthorized demolishing on our own… you know, when things got bad." Purple explained, "There's no way to tell which were orders and which were the results of Tallests gone mad."

Spleenk waved a hand, "Former psychiatrist, here, with a specialization in profiling. The beauty of it is that we'll be able to figure out who's responsible for what by looking at the pattern I can guarantee we're going to find. _Nothing_ about Them is random. Whatever doesn't fit, we can rule out."

"I'll take your word for it, Spleenk." Red replied.

"Well, that puts us one step closer than we were before." The Captain said.

"Did the patient say anything about where the Grel-thing's consciousness is being kept?" Skooge asked, having clearly taken a keen interest in the topic.

"All he mentioned was something he called "the Screaming Place". He said that was where he was brought when Grel was installed." Mei explained, "I'm afraid I do not have anything more specific."

"Why such an interest?" Dib asked.

Skoodge shrugged, "Figuring out what this Grel thing knows, or why these people wanted him so much helps us with motive. We know how they think and how they work. What we _don't_ know is what they're trying to do and why. Once you've got motive, it just comes down to which side is cleverer. To say that we've all got our own way of doing things is a very generous description, but that's what's going to give us the advantage. Once we start using our skills to complement each other, we'll actually have what it takes to be contenders."

"What about the Void?" Spleenk suggested

"It's a terrible vacation spot." Red answered.

"I mean, what if _that_ was where they took him?" He responded, "It's one of the only two "places that scream" I've heard of."

"Two? What's the other?" Skooge asked.

Spleenk nodded toward the former Tallest, "Their bedroom."

"…We should've seen that one." Red commented to his partner.

"You just can't get on top of things today, can you?" Purple asked with a sly smile.

Red narrowed his eyes sternly at his mate, " _Again_ with the hypocrisy. A second ago, it's "fuck my life" and now it's suddenly okay?"

"I just like to see you get all worked up." He replied, clearly enjoying the frustration he was causing the other Irken.

"Yeah," He grumbled, " _I_ ought to threaten to hold out on _you_ for once. See how you like it."

"That's _hardly_ punishment at all, Sweetheart," Purple replied in a casual voice, "you know I _prefer_ to wait for it."

Red tried very hard not to grin. "Yes. That I do."

"Are you mad?" Purple asked with a trace of "sad-puppy" eyes and the slightest hint of a pout.

The red-eyed Irken just smiled with a sigh, "Of course I'm not."

In a split second, Purple winked at the rest of the room and everyone shared an amused understanding.

"I know _exactly_ what you're doing, by the way." Red said.

"I think I'd be slightly insulted if you _didn't,_ at this point in our relationship." Purple replied.

Red just smiled and shook his head. "So back to business, then?"

"Sounds like a good idea to me. The Void," his mate said, resuming the previous conversation, "would make perfect sense. I mean, Red and I have seen "rehabilitated" prisoners that served sentences in that place. _Nobody_ comes out with their mind intact."

"I'll assume you were both kept clueless about the what goes on there." Lard Nar replied.

"All I know is that whatever it is, it's not sunshine and bunnies." Red answered.

"Unless, of course, the sunshine burns you alive with pure UV radiation and the bunnies tear your throat out and eat your entrails while you watch." Purple reminded.

The general response from the room was a look of pure horror.

"…Heh… sorry. That wasn't very funny at all, in retrospect."

Dib shook himself back into the present, "Hold on a second," he said, " _what's_ The Void?"

"It's this _HORRIBLE_ place right where the event horizons of the Dead Quadrant and Tortured Space come together!" Shloonktapooxis explained.

"Tortured Space?"

"Nobody really knows for sure how any of it came to be." Tenn said, "Current theories suggest that whatever alien peoples lived in the Dead Quadrant while it was still habitable were experimenting to create some kind of self-sustaining energy source using principles based on how an air-cycling system works. You know, absorb and release it in a balanced manner, generating power from both kinetic and potential energies. Whatever generator they came up with didn't work the way it was supposed to, and the consensus is that it consumed the energy in the mitochondria and variations thereof, in every living thing around it. They created a supermassive black hole without knowing it." She frowned, "Scientists think it must've collided with another one, and curved in such a way that formed a "wormhole" of sorts; a place we call "tortured space". The galaxy next door basically got yanked through space and time without protection. For some reason that's probably got to do with the Void; one sustaining the other or something, it never collapsed in on itself. The people who survived it can't even die because time stopped, but space didn't. Everyone's alive, trapped in the same moment.

As for the Void, it's essentially pure _nothingness_ … but they say it shrieks in your mind. I'd call it hell. Obviously, Irk thought it was the perfect place to build a prison."

"Why doesn't _Mei_ just tell us how it happened?" Red asked, "I mean, she's older than all of us put together raised to the billionth, billionth power, right?"

Purple gave his partner a mildly reprimanding glance but could not deny that it was a fair question.

"Actually, come to think of it, why are we still looking for Irk's mysteriously deleted history when we've got someone who was around before They showed up?" Red eyes narrowed, staring at the seer with an accusatory glare.

Mei clenched her jaw briefly and sighed in frustration, " _The past_ is of _no_ relevance. It has nothing to do with what is currently transpiring."

"I beg to differ, Mei. The only way we're going to get where we're going is to figure out how we got here."

"Your race was so insignificant I knew little of it! I was aware of your existence and your participation in the scientific community, but Irk and my people never crossed paths. I have told you many times that my race kept to ourselves. The problems of others were not our concern! We offered our assistance when we sensed moments of dire need, and only then did the community accept us; until our presence was no longer necessary, when we were abruptly turned away without thanks. I did not know of _any_ turmoil on your world until it burned. None of us sensed any survivors. Years later I was given the prophecy and no sooner had I left my home world, yours woke and destroyed mine. Your world woke, as if from sleep and stepped into the Universe again like it had never been away. I fail to see how any of that is relevant information!" She lied.

Red's expression replied that he clearly did not believe her, but his only argument was a gut feeling. He knew it would be pointless to pursue antagonizing the prophetess without any solid evidence. He would just have to watch and wait until something new came to light.

"…Um, I- erm… I think I _may_ know how the Shrieking Void came to be…" Zim interrupted in a nervous voice.

Tak laughed, " _You_? _You_ know what created the _Shrieking Void?"_

Zim nodded, uncomfortably, in agreement.

"Now _this,_ I have to hear." She replied, amused, "Enlighten us, Zim."

"Well, you see, I- uh… me."

Everyone shared the same stunned reaction.

" _How_ , exactly… _why_ do you think that?" Red asked, once he'd shaken his shocked stupor.

"As many of you know, I worked in Military Research… my last project in the division was an Infinite Energy Absorbing Blob. In retrospect, I realize that I failed to stabilize the creature, and this likely surprises no one, but uh, he wouldn't have gotten quite so powerful if someone else hadn't managed to successfully make an Infinite Energy Generator… which unintentionally became a snack for the thing I made."

"But the Shrieking Void has been around _forever_." The Captain replied.

"I used the principles of a black hole to design it. I think it _may_ have tried to consume the supermassive black hole those ancient whoever-they-were's made by accident. I think my creature became a black hole _inside_ a black hole. It was attracted to the energy from the preexisting wormhole, and by consuming it, got… trapped, in a way. The wormhole was sustained by the creature's energy, and created a new dimension in space and time."

"That's impossible." Tak replied. "Black holes _merge_. One gets consumed by the other."

"There's an Earth scientist who thinks," Dib paused a moment, asking himself if he really wanted to explain Hawking radiation to a table full of aliens, "never mind."

"But my creature became self-sustaining, after merging with the Infinite Energy Generator. It's _like_ a black hole, only, it's actually alive."

"Well, at least the "shrieking" part makes sense now." Skooge shrugged.

"How?"

"I don't think constantly being sucked into a black hole, stretching infinitely across space and time is something particularly plesant." Red offered.

"Everything is speculation." Tenn replied, "But those are the best explanations we've got."

Dib nodded, "Thanks for the history lesson." He said politely, inwardly thinking to himself, _"my brain just melted into pudding"_.

"I think this Grel thing is worth following up on." Skoodge said. "At worst, we learn more about what goes on in the Void. It might be helpful."

"We don't have a Void Ship." Red reminded, "While I'm sure we could _eventually_ put one together, I don't think we have that kind of time or manpower."

"We could hijack one." Tak suggested.

"Hijack a Void Ship?" The Captain asked.

"It's not really all that different from hijacking any other ship." Skooge replied.

"Outfit a Stealth Cruiser with a breaching pod, approach from below and by the time they figure out they've been boarded, it's too late." Tak offered.

"If Mei wouldn't mind lending her abilities, we'd basically be invisible." Skoodge said. "I'd be more than willing to try."

"I feel like it's a pretty impulsive decision." Red frowned.

"There's a difference between impulse and instinct." Purple reminded. "You knew something was wrong on Vort, without any evidence. Skoodge has done a phenomenal job of infiltrating and recon in the past. If this is what he's inclined to do, I think we should give it a shot. I know that you don't like to concede your point of view, but as your friend and crewmember, not to mention your _mate_ , it's my job to remind you when you're being a stubborn fuck." He explained kindly, taking a moment to catch Red's eyes. "You're being a stubborn fuck."

"And when I insisted that we abort the Vort mission? What was that, then?"

"An intuitive argument."

"I suppose _you're_ just gifted with the magic knowledge of discerning pride from intuition?"

"Nah, I'm not _that_ good. Only with you."

"Because I'm a terrible liar, you keep saying." He rolled his eyes.

"It's true; but that's got nothing do to with it."

The red-eyed Irken sighed with a trace of irritation in his voice, "All right then, how do you tell the difference?"

"You pout."

"Excuse me?"

"Your jaw gets tight and you stick your lip out. You'll bite at it if you're really annoyed. Kind of like _that_." Purple said, in reference to his mate unknowingly biting at his lip.

Red took notice of his behavior and instantly remedied it before his features again morphed into the expression his partner had described.

Purple nuzzled his mate's forehead with a smile, "You're so cute when you're cranky."

"I'm serious, Purple."

The violet-eyed Irken could not stop smiling, sighing happily. "Me too."

Red gave an exasperated sigh, "You make _no sense_ to me _at all_."

"Still love me?"

He closed his eyes and the corners of his mouth turned upward in the beginnings of a small smile, "Of course." Bringing a hand to lay against the other Irken's face, "You're _completely_ mad, fucking _brilliant_ , and utterly incomprehensible; and I love it."

"Good." Purple answered.

"All right, you can cuddle all you want _later_ , you two." The Captain said.

"Right." Purple replied, reluctantly distancing himself from his partner, "Void Ship."

"We'll want to move on this as fast as we can." Skooge explained, "Right now, they probably haven't noticed their prisoner is unaccounted for – especially with everything else that's been happening. We'll want to take advantage of that, before they start increasing the already tight security. We can't afford to delay the transport, so once we've secured it, we'll let you know when to send some transports over for the innocent prisoners. The more… homicidal ones, if there are any, we'll just let Irk deal with them. If we want to cut our risks down, we're going to need Mei's abilities to get us through checkpoints."

The seer nodded. "I can easily maintain a perception shield around us."

"That takes care of the really difficult stuff,"

"I want to go." Much to everyone's surprise, it was Purple and not Red who interjected in a firm, serious voice that indicated he was not asking permission.

"You've still got surgery,"

"And it'll be over by the time we send the transports out to the ship we're stealing." He pointedly explained to the captain.

"You won't be able to handle the physical requirements of being in the field that soon,"

"If Mei can do what she says she's capable of, I don't see why I can't."

"Do you really want to risk our cover in a place like _that_?" Red asked, rather worriedly.

"More than anywhere else."

"Why?"

"Because there's _more_ there than just a prison. The perfect place to keep secrets is somewhere they can't escape. This Grel thing, regardless if it's still there, it's a secret. And they're keeping him there. They've _been_ keeping him there. The patient said that the first place he was taken was to the Void. Think about Vort. The prisons functioned as prisons, but They had something else in mind when they built them. I still don't know what, but whatever it was, we know," Purple paused for a brief moment, "all those engineers all over the planet, at the same time. They were each building parts for _the same thing_. They _had to be_. Spleenk," He said, addressing the alien directly, "did any of the refugees you've spoken to say _anything_ about what they were working on?"

"Nothing specific. They seemed rather confused and said it was weapons." He paused, his face illuminating with understanding, "You're thinking…"

Purple nodded. "Mei," The tall, violet-eyed Irken started, "I'll need you to scan someone."

"Only with consent. May I ask to what purpose?"

"I think they were all wiped. Every night, in their food or something, every single one of them was given a dose of NoRecall."

"Wouldn't they forget what they were working on the next day?" Dib asked.

"Something more specific, then."

"Conditioning." Spleenk answered, "Behavioral conditioning. Maybe subliminal, in their sleep."

"So, what, they're Sleeper Agents? Engineers who, when triggered, become compelled to build things?"

"As silly as it sounds, it makes sense. I'll do some interviews just to confirm my theory."

"Nothing is ever what it seems. If they're using the Void as a prison, it means they're keeping secrets there. I want to see it for myself."

"If anyone would be able to spot something important, 'Nar, it'd be them." Spleenk reminded.

The Captain frowned, conflicted, "All right; but I'm not happy about it."

Purple nodded, "Thank you."

"This will be a delicate situation, so Skoodge will be directing the mission during which we take control of the Void Ship. Tak, you're going to run communications and Tenn, I want you running point. Out of everyone, you have the most experience against Them in combat, so I want us to be prepared for the worst-case scenario."

"The extent of my experience, Sir, was receiving what would have been a fatal stab wound. I was just lucky I was quick enough to shoot his head off." She gave a humorless laugh, "It's nothing useful."

"Of _course_ it's useful!" Shloonktapooxis retorted, "Now ya know all ya gotta do is shoot 'em in the head! You could pretend they're _Zombies_! I think you should do _that_ , that'd be _awesome_!"

"Given a choice, I'd prefer Zombies."

Red nodded, "They hurt less."

"Mei and Buir, you will accompany them to secure the ship. I would send you, Zim, but like I said… it's _delicate_ , and we're going to need you for bigger missions."

Zim nodded. The alien would not deny that he was slightly disappointed, but he had _just_ arrived and knew a little time to settle in was more than necessary. He couldn't afford to exhaust himself. He had such a difficult time maintaining his emotions as it was. The sudden change in scenery was welcome after three years on Earth, but he was dealing with much more than a change of scenery. "Zim understands, Sir."

"Dib, I'm not quite sure of your abilities yet, as we've really only just met. We'll figure out where you fit, though."

The boy nodded in acceptance.

"All right, if that's everything, I'll show our three newest recruits to their rooms." The Captain said, "Okay, we're adjourned. Use the COM system if anything comes up."

"I'll get to work on sorting through the military history," Spleenk replied, "Tenn, could you spare a minute?"

The former Invader shrugged, "Sure. What do you need?"

"Nothing specific." He began, waiting for the room to clear out, "Lard Nar explained earlier that he's changed up the chain of command, but he can't make any formal announcements until everyone's agreed to where he wants them. He's going to discuss things with Zim, Skooge, and Dib while he gets them acquainted with the facility, so I agreed to help him out and talk with you, Red, and Purple as long as he took Tak as well."

She almost smiled, "So, what job have you got for me?"

"Chief of Security." Spleenk explained, "He wants you organizing the patrols and training the security team. You work fast, efficient, you don't take crap from anyone, and you know how to secure and maintain a defensive position. I agreed when he suggested you for the job and I think everyone else would, too."

She felt uncertain and slightly doubtful, "Are you sure that's a good decision? After what happened on Vort, I think I'm hardly the right choice."

"You were ready to give your _life_ to protect us, Tenn. If that's not the definition of courage, I don't know what is."

"Courage doesn't matter if you fail."

"You're starting to sound like Red." Spleenk replied with a short laugh. "Yes, it _does_. What you need to realize is in the end, the place where you made your stand never really mattered; only that you were there, and still on your feet. I'd rather die with dignity than assume I'm going to fail and do nothing. You _can't_ standby and do nothing, it's not who you are."

"Since you seem to have me all figured out, please, tell me _who I am_. Because I sure as fuck don't know." Her tone was abrasive and forceful. She hadn't _meant_ to get angry, but she couldn't help it under the circumstances.

"I know that you're confused. Remorseful. I know you're driven and goal-oriented and you haven't slowed down since you got on board. You haven't taken any time to process the changes in your life; you accept them on a conscious level, but you're split inside because you still can't fathom how any sentient being could do what was done to Red and Purple, and you ask yourself if _you_ were that way once and just never noticed. You still don't feel like you belong even though you feel comfortable here. You won't _allow_ yourself to feel comfortable because somewhere you believe that you don't deserve this second chance. You weren't tortured or forced into your actions, and you feel like you should bear the brunt of the guilt for them – _despite_ being biologically manipulated to believe they were the right things to do. Your strong, smart, and you've never come across an enemy you couldn't defeat.

You felt fear for the first time in your life, and you'd never hesitated or choked in the face of danger and you're still deeply ashamed of that split-second you couldn't make your body move. You go through it over and over, replaying it from every angle and thinking of all the things you could have done differently. It's never going to get better if you don't break that cycle and accept that you did everything you could. What happened happened, and it's time to come to terms with it.

For you, I think this job would be affirming and productive. I do think, however, that you're going to need to deal with your inner stress before you can feel like you've earned it. You've never turned down a challenge in your life, Tenn." He said, "So, what do you say?"

The Irken appeared conflicted. She ached inside, one half of her screaming to take his help while the other lashed out, urging her to reject it. Anger was so much easier. Numbness was so much quieter. Quiet made sense in an unnerving way, and she hated it. It was a sensation akin to having one's mouth forced shut with arms hanging lazily at their sides. Like she was constantly screaming into lips sewn shut, too stubborn to ask a medic to cut them free. No, Tenn would rather tear her lips open splitting the invisible stitches when she reached her ultimate breaking point.

"Thanks for the talk, Spleenk. I'll be in the training wing."

The four-armed alien sighed, but did nothing to stop her. There were people who needed to be whacked with the proverbial 2x4 of truth, those for whom hitting the bottom was the only way to admit it, and then there were the ones who found themselves a shovel and dug just to see how much farther down they could reach before the hole caved in. Spleenk had been the latter once, but most of the time, he would have to pause to remember it. He'd even find himself in conversations, sighing and almost responding with something to the effect of, _"I don't know_ why _people let themselves get like that_ ", but it was a sentiment he never expressed because he knew the answer intimately.

He did not get the impression that Tenn was the kind who reached for a shovel. She was much more likely, in his mind, to drive herself to the bottom before ultimately realizing what had to be done. Normally, he'd have no issue with waiting for her to be ready, but they did not have that kind of time. He did not expect the recovery process to be short and effortless; but the sooner trauma was dealt with, the faster and easier it was to cope with.

Spleenk sighed, alone in the empty meeting room with his thoughts and a heavy heart as his mind turned to other matters. He wanted 'Nar to see a professional to help him cope with everything his ex had put him through. Spleenk desperately wanted to be the one to help the Captain, but he had to choose between the role of the professional or friend (with, he hoped, potential) and the decision was something that weighed on him heavily but in the end, Lard Nar would need support and affirmation more than anything. Spleenk had no trouble reiterating what he'd always seen in the Captain, and more than anything else, there was trust. He did not want Lard Nar to feel burdened, and though he seemed all right at the moment, from experience with patients in similar situations, it would not last for long.

How was one supposed to bring up these kinds of things? _"Hey, Honey, how was work – oh, by the way, I think you should see a mental health professional about your ex violating you and that controlling relationship that fucked you up – I made fish sticks,_ " didn't sound quite appropriate. He groaned and buried his face in two of his hands. He never could take his own advice.

The alien let out a sigh and contemplated venturing in search of Red and Purple before laughing to himself at all the ways _that_ was likely to end, and headed for the research terminals.

* * *

Someone _had_ to have noticed him by now. He'd taken the first shuttle leaving the planet and _someone_ had to have seen his face. They _had_ to know he was… where was he?

Kaff had _no idea_ where he'd been dropped off. He was not about to draw attention to himself by asking. He'd deactivated his tracking beacon as quickly as he could but the Control Brains knew he was still alive, just not _where_. They would soon enough, though.

If he turned himself in along with the recording, everyone would know he was innocent. He had run on instinct, out of fear that whatever had torn apart his co-workers might come back for him. He didn't understand why the government wanted him dead or alive so badly, but there was the matter of the recording. He still hadn't even found an opportunity to watch it.

* * *

"So, what was it that you wanted to talk about before?"

Red paused a moment, offering his partner a clueless expression before he could recall what the other Irken was trying to imply. "Oh, you mean back at the docking bay?"

Purple nodded.

Red let out a short sigh and a smile, sitting at the edge of their bed. "It's really not a big deal," he said, "I was gonna make one of my vaguely suggestive comments before I heard how you'd hear it in my head before I said it out loud, and it made me kinda sad."

Purple sat beside his partner with both worry and interest. Red was not usually this forthcoming or honest.

"I just… I thought about what I _meant_ to say, and what those words would mean to you, and… I don't know. It shouldn't be that way."

"What were you going to say?"

The red-eyed Irken let out a heavy sigh, "I was teasing you about kissing me on the day we met, and you said it wasn't like you stuck your tongue down my throat and tried to seduce me,"

"Oh, Red," Purple began sympathetically, "I'm sorry – I didn't even _think_ about,"

Red interrupted his mate with a short laugh. hollow and humorless. "And _that's_ still what it comes back to. Everything we do is always overshadowed by regret. I was gonna tell you that it was just a matter of time before you did, but that night never crossed my mind."

Purple studied the stark, white sheets, "What did you mean, then?"

"When you kiss me, Pur, after all these years, I still can't bring myself to break away. Every time we stop to breathe, I curse my lungs. I could do nothing but kiss you for the rest of our lives, and I'd be more than satisfied. I always think I know how much I love you, but when we kiss it's something I know I can't measure. It's terrifying and overwhelming, and so completely amazing that in a split second, I'm yours. _That_ night was the _last thing_ on my mind."

His mate was quiet for a moment, before turning to meet the other Irken's eyes, "What do you see when you look at me? Please, be honest. I won't be offended."

Red smiled and smoothed back Purple's antennas. "My best friend. The most beautiful thing I've _ever_ seen. Everything I was, what I am, all the things I want to be, and when the light is just right, I actually believe I can become all the things I only dream about. I see hope and faith and all the things I thought I lost. When I look at you, Pur, I see that you held on to those things for me until I remembered that they'd gone missing."

Purple smiled and leaned against the other Irken. "Let's move on, then." He said in a soft voice, "Let's look back on it to measure how far we've come. I don't want to be afraid of myself anymore."

Red smiled. "You've got a deal."

Purple reoriented himself to lie on his side, urging his mate to follow, "Stay with me a while."

Red held the other close and Purple automatically intertwined his legs with the other Irken, as if trying to lose himself in Red's embrace. Red gently nuzzled against his partner, "Until the end of the world."

"This is where is starts, isn't it?" Purple asked; it wasn't a question, more like a statement seeking affirmation.

"I think it started a long time ago. I think it's coming down to whether or not we can do anything to stop it."

Purple sighed. "There are a thousand other things we should be doing right now."

Red shrugged, "You're probably right. But I think we both need this more than the other 999."

The violet-eyed Irken nestled deeper into his mate's arms in a gesture that needed no words to explain how grateful he was.

Red took a deep breath, "Mei was lying, when she said she didn't know anything about Irk."

"I know." The other sighed.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I can't tell if she's doing it to _hurt_ us, or _protect_ us."

Red gave his partner a confused stare, "How does her withholding important information _protect_ us from _anything_? Anyone who's seen an action Vid knows that. That kind of thing is what gets people killed."

"I agreed to Skoodge's idea because it was _Skoodge_ who suggested it. I trust his instincts."

"What makes me nervous is we know They were around for a long time, and she lived through the transition. She said that Irk burned. She was around when it happened, and she won't tell us anything about before or after. Even if she _was_ hiding out on some remote place for billions of years, she still knew _when_ to come and find _us_. That implies she wasn't as far removed and ignorant and she claims. I don't care how vague her idea of it is; she's got something more concrete than what she's given us. More than that," he continued, "she knew what They were doing to us. She knew what They put us, and every other Tallest through, and she did _nothing_."

"Maybe there was _nothing_ she could do."

"Naiveté isn't something I've seen from you in a long time, Pur."

"It's not naïve to think that she might not have been powerful enough on her own."

"Maybe, but she could have at least tried. There's _always_ something you can do."

"Was there anything _we_ could have done?"

Red had no response.

"We tried everything we could, but the truth is that we weren't strong enough on our own."

Red sighed, "Stop making so much sense."

Purple gave a quiet laugh, "Sure, Red."

"What do you think Their endgame is?"

"Everything."

"Okay, now be a little bit more specific."

"That _was_ specific. I don't think they want money or power or even control. I think they want an idea."

Red frowned, "That's rather abstract."

"If they were after something concrete, they'd have gotten it by now. I think it's something twofold. Whatever they're doing… it's almost like they're…" Purple paused, as if a fog had been lifted. He felt as if one side of his brain was lagging behind the other; almost like he'd already figured it out, but somehow, couldn't access it. "… I need to talk to Spleenk," he said, ungracefully disentangling himself from the limbs of his partner and stumbling out of bed.

Red cringed, "That dismount is _really_ gonna knock your score a few points."

"Good thing I'm not a gymnast."

"Could have fooled me." Red snickered with a lewd grin.

Purple paused thoughtfully for a moment, and shrugged, "Fair enough."

"…What?" He'd been expecting a typical scolding from his mate, who was somewhat unprepared for his mate to shrug it off so simply.

"Well, _one of us_ has to keep things interesting." He replied with a sly smirk, readjusting his robe before turning to the Vidscreen.

"I _always_ keep it interesting." Red replied in an overly assertive voice, sitting up.

"Suuuuure you do, Babe. You just keep telling yourself that." Purple responded over his shoulder.

"You _loved_ the ice cream idea."

"Did I, Red? Did I?"

"Don't do the double-question to prove a point thing. I _hate_ when people do that."

Purple dialed the number for Spleenk's COM and turned his head toward his partner, "Do you, Red? Do you?"

Red growled, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "Bullshit cretin."

The violet-eyed Irken laughed as his mate's scowl increased. Satisfied, Purple turned back to the Vidscreen and waited for Spleenk to answer.

"Hey; have you found anything in the history yet?"

"You gotta give me a little time, I've got millions of years to go through. I'm having one of the computers sort for commonalities and condense the information so I can get a better sense, in general, of what's going on."

"I just had a thought," the Irken explained, "and I figured you'd be the person who'd know what to do with it."

Spleenk nodded, "What were you thinking?"

"Well, I've asked myself _why_ They want, but never really spent much time concerned with _what_ They want. I figure that if it were something concrete, they'd have gotten to it already. The generic power-hungry, I-want-the-world-to-worship-me thing doesn't hold true, because Tenn said that the one who stabbed her mentioned that it's not a cult thing. Nobody specific controls what they do. Red and I know They have a leader of sorts, but he's more their _voice_ or representative than anything. They obviously believe in what they do, but it's not in pursuit of religion. So I wasn't sure _what_ was left – but then I remembered how intact the military records were kept. All of our orders were to destroy planets, but we didn't always obliterate them. Some we were told to sweep of organic life forms, and turn them into whatever they said."

"Rebuilding the universe to their liking." Spleenk frowned, "I just don't see what Mall Planets and Parking Structures have to do with an ancient group of Irkens."

"People." Red commented, from his place on the bed. "They all became the safest places to go. Irk wouldn't destroy a planet it just rebuilt. That, and the survivors were enslaved half the time, so they can't leave the Empire."

Silence passed between them.

"…But there's no _possible_ way They'd be able to perform an Organic Sweep on _that many_ planets at the same time. The Empire is _huge_." Purple said, addressing the realization none of them wanted to speak out loud. "People would notice multiple ships as big as the Massive and immediately know something was wrong. They'd hit their cruisers and be gone."

"Not if they find a way to send an EMP." Spleenk replied, the words squeezing his heart just a bit.

"They've all been built with EMP shields." The violet-eyed Irken replied.

"Do you _really_ think those are built to work?" Red asked, "Knowing Them, the shields probably _trigger_ an EMP."

"Still," Purple said, "there's no way they can make _that many_ Sweep Cannons."

"With an entire planet full of engineers?"

" _Fuck_."

"They told us they were getting rid of all _unsuitable_ _life_. Weed out the ones you can with injections, pretend it's a virus, and when the panic starts, set up a few planets as "Safe Zones", and whoever is left will flock there. Wipe them clean with an Organic Sweep, and get to work. They could build a Hatchery the size of an entire planet and once it's up and running, it'd possible for Them to have repopulated the universe in a day's work." Red explained.

"…I'm still going to go through the history." Spleenk said. "We might be wrong."

"And I might be Queen of the Lilith."

"I can discredit _that_ completely." Purple replied.

"It just feels like a really big leap of logic for us to make these connections… we've got no solid information."

"That's where you're wrong, Spleenk. It's a matter of deductive reasoning." Red explained, "All of the pieces have been staring us in the face the _entire_ time. Everything they've ever said to Pur and I, the information Tenn got… it seemed so insignificant, I just brushed what he told her off as arrogance or an intimidation technique."

"That's probably why They never cared when Red and I would do damage on our own. They could _afford_ to leave the military history intact because there's enough crazy it's not _all_ Them. They wouldn't have to worry about anyone looking for a pattern."

Spleenk sighed, "It's _still_ only a theory."

"I guess we'll find out once we get to the Void." Purple replied.

"If They're hiding Sweep Cannons, that's probably where they'd be." The other alien agreed.

"See?" Purple asked, turning toward his mate, "You're glad I pushed to get us on this mission now, aren't you?"

Red just made a face that indicated he was rather displeased. "Am I, Pur? Am I?"

Purple laughed.

"You know what? If you've _really_ got a problem with our sex life, it's probably _you_ , because the only time I've _ever_ heard you complain was over me getting you turned on too often!"

Purple just shook his head with a sigh and a smile. "I've got to go, Spleenk."

The alien nodded with a knowing grin and disconnected the communication.

"This _really_ bothers you, doesn't it?" The violet-eyed Irken laughed.

Red just muttered angrily to himself.

"You could always prove me wrong." Purple replied idly, casually sauntering toward his mate.

"Was that a challenge?"

"More like an invitation."

* * *

As expected, once Lard Nar had finished showing the newcomers the facility, Skoodge had immediately started making the necessary preparations for hijack the Void Ship. He had all a basic overview figured out, and now, all he had to do was focus on the specifics. First and foremost, he needed to know when the next ship was scheduled to depart.

The materials required to construct a ship capable of traveling through the Shrieking Void were equal to the GPP (Gross Planetary Product) of most financially stable worlds in price. They were in very limited supply and used as economically as possible, so the transportation to and from the prison ran on a predetermined schedule. They would need to catch a ship mid-voyage. He successfully acquired the information he was looking for and frowned.

The former Invader sighed and dialed Tak's COM-link. She answered with a terse, unpleasant "What?"

"How fast can we retrofit the breaching pod?"

"A week, at least."

"You've got two days."

"That's _not_ funny."

"It wasn't supposed to be."

"This isn't a soldering job! You might as well be asking me to fuse something with Duct Tape!"

"I don't care if you have to fuse it with Gahanarak vomit. I'm just telling you the timeframe we have to work in. This is a Level 1 priority, so anything you need, including the number of personnel, is at your disposal."

Refusing to admit she'd been overly hostile on account of a misunderstanding, Tak let out an irritated sigh, " _Fine_. Make sure you keep the Captain updated."

"Will do."

* * *

"Wonderful."

"What now?" Spleenk asked.

"We've only got two days to prep for Skooge's mission." The Captain sighed, "Maybe we should rethink this."

"No." Spleek replied quickly.

Lard Nar raised an eyebrow at the other alien, "Why not?"

"We _need_ to check it out. It's the best place for them to hide something. Nobody would see it… whatever it is."

"You okay, Spleenk? You're kinda… twitchy. Well, more twitchy than usual."

He opened his mouth to speak and deny that there was anything wrong, but sighed instead, "This is bad, 'Nar."

"What happened?"

"No, I'm talking about what's _gonna_ happen."

"Explain?"

"Purple came up with a theory. About what They're trying to do. It fits too well and I'm not sure we can survive it."

"…There's still Action Protocol 8."

Spleenk looked at the Captain, "Could you _really_ do that?"

He sighed, "That's only if we fail. After we make our stand, if there are too few of us left."

"That's just surrendering."

"Yeah, but we'd still be alive."

"I won't run away from this."

"Neither will I. I'm just saying that if we lose, and only a few of us are still breathing, retreat is an option."

"No it's not." Spleenk replied, "It's never been an option for you. The moment you started this Resistance, you knew there was no going back."

* * *

**\- Allusions & References - **

Lard Nar's quip calling **fate an** **elegant, cold-hearted whore** is taken directly from the Spill Canvas song, _"Polygraph, Right Now!"_

**Every silver lining has a cloud, and lightning kills most of the people who go looking for it** was a _Despair, Inc. Demotivational Poster_

Purple telling Red, **"objectively, yes, I'm smart – though it has nothing to do with my ass"** was from a first season episode of _Bones_

Most of the stuff about **personality imprint** **s** came from Joss Whedon's _Dollhouse_

In a commentary somewhere, Jhonen states that the Tallest constructed GIR out of **b** **roken SIR parts, a frozen yogurt machine, and whatever was in their pockets**.

The **Infinite Energy Absorbing Blob** is a reference to the would-have-been episode, _The Trial_

**Hawking radiation** is Steven Hawking's theory that specific types of radiation escape black holes

When Red tells Purple **"don't do the double-question to prove a point thing. I** _ **hate**_ **when people do that."** is straight out of the _Modern Family_ episode _"Coal Digger"_

**Lilith** refers to the modern-day feminist icon (historically known as a succubus)

**\- Notes -**

Well, it's about damn time. It would take far too long too explain everything that's happened, but life got kind of scary. Every day is still a process but things seem to be improving. Apologies for the choppiness. I wanted to get this one up so I could get moving on 14, which will have lots of action.

Really, I want to thank you guys for reading/reviewing/following this. It keeps me going :)


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Words really don't express how sorry I am this chapter is beyond late. I had it ready for posting and then my Mac ate the flash drive storing all my fics. I lost an incredible amount of work. Some of which I was able to recover (mostly old stuff and the first five pages of this) so I had to re-write the entire thing. It was so demoralizing, especially since I'd put so much effort into the original draft. This was supposed to be longer. It may seem choppy and bits of it will probably sound out-of-place, but it will make sense once the next chapter is done. I admit, I rushed to complete this, so it's not quite the quality I'd like, but I've been sitting on it for months.

This is for everyone reading/reviewing/bearing with me. You don't know how much it means.

* * *

**\- 14 -**

The physiotherapy ended up being the most difficult part of Red and Purple's recovery. The spinal surgeries were completely successful, and the cartilage injections were more effective than anyone could have hoped. They were both under heavy anesthesia for the process, as well as the twenty-four hours of their recovery. They had declined the offer, but the doctor had made the executive decision that it would be unethical to allow the Irkens to wake up in cruel and unusual agony. Also, he had to consider the possibility that one or both of them might convulse instinctually and go into shock or possibly, a seizure. There was no way their bodies could physically bear the after-effects of the procedure consciously. He had to ensure their bodies were immobilized and that their spines were supported with the proper medical equipment, or they'd both risk permanent damage and it would almost certainly cost them the ability to walk.

The doctor had been positive they would both be pissed, but he had decided that he would bear their wrath. It was his job, above all else, to do no harm. He would never force a treatment on a patient, but when there was no power of attorney, next of kin, or spouse capable of making an executive decision, the choice was left to the doctor's discretion.

Red had been as livid as the doctor expected, but Purple surprised him with a genuine display of gratitude.

"How can you say that after he lied to us?"

"Because he's a doctor and I'm not. He's got no bias. I do. Therefore," Purple explained, "he's the one with a rational mindset."

"You'll be able to walk again by the end of the day." The doctor explained, "I was able to accelerate the healing with muscle stim to prevent atrophy while you were unconscious. I'm shocked at the extent of muscle mass you've regenerated in the last few hours. If you really cooperate with the physiotherapist, you'll be in excellent physical condition by the time you rendezvous with the team on the Void Ship. I had to do what I thought was in your best interest."

"Thanks again, Doc." Purple smiled, "Even if he doesn't seem it, he's grateful, too. Or, he _will be,_ once he realizes how much you've helped."

The doctor nodded. "I'll let you two have some peace and quiet." He said, before turning his attention to the red-eyed Irken, "Would you like some help?"

"With what?"

"As much as I would've liked to let you share a single bed, it was too risky. At this point, neither of you are going to dislodge each other's spines accidentally so there's no harm in it now."

Red's gesture indicated that he did not require assistance, but his partner's voice was more convincing, "Give him a hand, Doc. If you wouldn't mind."

Nodding, he helped Red to his feet and into bed beside Purple. "I'll come get you in an hour or two. I will have to request that until you're cleared to do so by the physiotherapist, try to keep the more amorous aspects of a relationship to a minimum. At this stage, it's still possible that you could do serious spinal damage. The kind that would seriously impair that ability in the future."

"Thanks for the warning. I'll try to keep my hands to myself."

The doctor gave a small laugh, leaving the two Irkens to themselves.

Purple could tell from the contours of the muscles in his partner's back that he was not pleased. He poked Red's shoulder. "Hold me."

Red took a moment to respond, but he grudgingly turned to his other side and pulled the other close.

Purple made a small, happy sound as he settled comfortably into the embrace. His partner tried not to smile and failed.

" _That's_ better."

Red sighed, "Yeah. It is."

As much as he did not want to, Red had to concede and admit that the doctor had outdone himself this time. He understood why the man was on Irk's "Most Wanted" list. The ways he'd been able to think around the limitations of medical technology almost reminded him of the protagonist from that Earth television show who neutralized an acid leak with chocolate. The nanomachines had manipulated the Pak into healing them faster, to the point where they were able to build muscle at least three times as fast as they would have with the Pak alone. They were on their feet and walking by the end of the day, just like the doctor had promised.

"Told you." Purple teased.

"I know you did. I'm sure I'll be hearing about it for the rest of my life."

"Now you'll have to send him a thank you _and_ an apology card."

"We send out cards now?"

"Since that the hilarious image of you doing so has appeared in my head, absolutely."

"And _when_ did you first having these disturbing fantasies?"

"Oh, _I'm_ the one with disturbing fantasies, now?"

Red grinned wolfishly, "Handcuffs."

"That has _nothing_ to do with this and you know it."

Red grinned, "Handcuffs."

"They were to prove a point. And _you_ like them better, anyway."

His expression widened. "Handcuffs."

"…Screw you."

"I did."

Purple glowered at his mate. "That wasn't some kinky thing, like your constant desire to bring deserts into bed."

Red rolled his eyes, "It was _twice_ , and you loved it."

"So?"

"… _Handcuffs_."

"What _else_ was I supposed to do?"

Red sighed, "I know, Pur. I was just teasing you."

"Don't ruin that memory by casting it as something dirty. It actually meant something to me."

"It meant _everything_ to me. It still does."

"You've got a funny way of showing it, Red."

The red-eyed Irken would admit that he could understand his partner's point of view. He'd been fine when the two of them had decided they were ready to be intimate again with each other but with each subsequent effort, he was much less engaged and his interest would cease if Purple asked to change things up.

It wasn't that he had a problem with what his partner wanted him to do (he enjoyed both positions equally), but he did, however, have a problem with _why_ Red wanted him to do it. He knew the other Irken was still afraid on an unconscious level that he would hurt Purple, and Red refused to accept anything as fact unless there was some kind of irrefutable, provable evidence. Purple knew that better than anyone. He had tried everything he could think of and after a month or so, the violet-eyed Irken finally got tired of Red's stubbornness and decided to address the issue in the most direct and blatant way he could.

One night, he told his partner to look into the bedside table drawer. Red did as Purple asked, and glanced back at him with a degree of curiosity and uncertainty. " _Are these supposed to be for me?"_

Purple smiled warmly and shook his head before sitting up to kiss Red's lips. " _They're for me_."

Red froze. His body began to tremble and words failed him.

Purple took the cuffs from Red's unsteady hands and closed one of them around his right wrist. " _This isn't one of us taking control of the other._ " He explained, " _I want to share myself with you. I don't have much, Red._ This _… my body, it's all I have left. I wouldn't trust you with it unless I was sure you weren't going to hurt me_."

" _But I did, the first time_."

" _No, Love._ I _hurt me the first time and I used you to do it_." He said, locking the second cuff around his free wrist.

" _Please, take them off, Pur, I really don't want to look at you like that…"_

He ran his knuckles down Red's cheek, " _You're seeing them the wrong way."_

" _What's the point of this?"_

" _Trust."_

" _You know I trust you."_

Purple nodded in affirmation, _"But you don't trust_ yourself _."_

" _There's no reason I should."_

The violet-eyed Irken sighed, _"You trust me, which means that you know I'd never hurt you because hurting you would cause us both pain, and since we just established I'd never do that, it follows that I don't like when you or I are in pain. Therefore, we can conclude that I'd never let you hurt me."_ He laid his head on Red's shoulder and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, _"I'm not asking you to hold me down. I'm trying to help you let go."_ He withdrew to look into his partner's eyes, _"Do you understand?"_

Red looked uncomfortable, wrapping his arms around himself, _"H-how… how am I supposed to know what you want?"_

Purple sighed. _"You_ ask _."_

"… _What if I go too far?"_

" _Red, if you think a pair of handcuffs could stop me from kicking your ass, I don't know_ what _world you're living in."_ He smiled, _"Now kiss me. Let's go slow."_

"I doubt anyone would believe I _ever_ tried to turn down you in handcuffs."

"Well _you're_ the one who prefers to be in them."

Red grinned. "And yet, everyone seems to think the reverse."

"Yeah, what's with that?"

His partner shrugged, "I suppose you're the wife after all."

"Please, Red. Even when you're on top, _I'm_ topping from the bottom." Purple replied. "I know _exactly_ what you're trying to do."

"Are you insinuating that I've got some sort of hidden agenda?" Red asked with a sly grin.

"More like calling you out on it."

His partner shrugged, "My intentions are _completely_ pure. What would I stand to gain?"

"You're trying to provoke me so I'll take you in a manly fashion."

Red sighed, wrapping his arms around his partner from behind. "Have I mentioned how gorgeous you are?"

"You're dreaming if you think you can pull that routine on _me_ , Mister. I know your type. Flattery and compliments won't get you into my bed."

"And what _exactly_ ," Red asked in a low voice against Purple's neck, "would do the trick?"

"Wouldn't you love to know?"

The red-eyed Irken ran his hands down Purple's sides, "That goes without saying."

"Let's not get carried away. We don't know if we're in _that_ kind of shape yet." Purple reminded.

Red exhaled, slumping against his mate, chin resting on the other's shoulder, "We'd better be."

Purple laughed, "We'll know when the physiotherapist comes back."

A comfortable moment of silence passed between them.

"Hey, Pur. I just want you to know how proud I am of you for doing this."

"Doing _what,_ Red?" He chuckled, "I haven't had anything more to deal with than you did."

Red sighed, "I guess I keep coming back to how much you miss combat. I think about what you must be feeling sometimes, and I can't imagine how you've gotten through these few weeks, or however long it's been, without screaming. Always being so close to the one thing you'd kill for, and never being able to have it… but you keep trying, and you don't give up. I don't know how you do it."

The violet-eyed Irken turned around to face his partner, taking both of his hands. He nuzzled Red's forehead with a satisfied smile and sighed before withdrawing. "Red, the only thing I'd kill for is staring me in the face. If giving up my legs meant I wouldn't lose you, I'd cut them off here and now. As long as I have _you_ , nothing else matters. You told me something a long time ago, but I never really understood it until this whole thing started. You said that I needed to start looking in a bigger mirror, when I told you how much I hated what I saw in it. You were right, Red."

"I think I'm hallucinating."

"Why?"

"I just heard the words _you were right, Red_ come out of your mouth."

Purple sighed and rolled his eyes, "Probability-wise, it was bound to happen sooner or later."

"I need to mark this date on my calendar! …When I get a calendar. Note to self: get a calendar. Can I get a recording of that?"

"You've got your Pak, Dear."

Red cringed, "I'd rather not."

"Why's that?"

"I rely on the goddamn thing to keep me alive as it is. I don't want that stupid machine to have anything more to do with my life than what's absolutely necessary."

"You can't exactly turn off your memory storage."

"No." Red replied, "But I've been thinking,"

"Oh that's _never_ good."

"That's a little harsh and uncalled-for."

Outside the room they heard something barreling past the door and down the hallway, "WHEE-HEE-HEE-HOO! Gonna fly that magic poodle over the rainbow!"

"GIR!" Zim's voice, panting and angry, "Get back here! How did you get out of that digital straight-jacket?"

Purple crossed his arms and shot Red a glance.

"…I said it was _a little_ uncalled-for. Not _entirely_. You've got to admit, though, it's the most free-thinking, independent SIR unit in Irken history."

"Tak's is pretty good. And it's not insane."

"Well hers is much older than GIR, and she built it herself. She must've raised it, too. Zim didn't know about my modifications."

"That you essentially gave him an infant?" Purple paused a moment, "Now reflect on that statement."

Red cringed again. "It seemed like a good idea at the time…"

"Babe, I swear those are gonna be your last words."

"As opposed to _'no, you need to do it like_ this _'_ followed by a large explosion?"

Purple rolled his eyes. "What were you saying, about your Pak?"

"I, uh, I've been thinking about setting up some kind of data forwarding system. So I could access everything, but store it on a drive located somewhere else."

Purple thought for a moment. " _That's it!_ " He exclaimed, grabbing Red's upper arms, " _That's_ what They did to that poor guy in the Psych Ward – only, they didn't forward _his_ memories to storage drive – They've got an alien, that Grel thing, whatever it is, they must've downloaded his brainwaves and loaded him into a spare control brain on it's own network! They put a receiver in the patient's head and cleared him out to give Grel a new body! Think about it – Pethra said something about hurting an echo, that you can't do it unless it's got a physical form. They stuck someone else in his head because they couldn't torture him otherwise, and whatever they wanted, he wouldn't give them! Oh, you are _brilliant!_ "

In an action that completely shocked his partner, Purple crushed their lips together in a hard kiss that made Red's knees go weak.

Slightly dizzy, trying to catch his breath, "Can you reward me like that _every time_ I'm brilliant?"

"I'll consider it."

* * *

"We're almost in range, so I just wanna go over the plan one more time. If we screw up, even a little bit, we've all got a one-one ticket to the Shrieking Void." Skooge explained, addressing his small team.

"We've gone through it a million times." Tak groaned.

"Well then consider this a million and one." He replied. "Tenn and I are going in first. We'll be breaching the cargo hold where the hull is the thinnest. We're relying on our own stealth and Mei's perception field to help us move around unnoticed. Hopefully, we can find some quick disguises for a worst-case scenario. Tak, you need to hack their system as soon as we're in range. Fake an alarm in section 66. It'll draw focus away from our breach, but it'll put the ship on Red Alert."

"Then Mei tricks everyone into believing the self-destruct has been activated because they're vulnerable in their state of heightened alert. I lock the pods on autopilot and set the destination to a planet two weeks away, deactivate the navigation and radio. You and Tenn secure the control room, Buir deals with the prisoners, and when I get the 'all clear', I come on board, seal the breach, and launch the cruiser back to Malterra. We let them know our status, and they send transports over. Then, we prepare for Act II. Did I miss anything?" Tak finished.

"No… no, that's about right. Anyone else have concerns?"

"Can Mei really handle all that? I mean, she's _one_ Yu Jian the size of a six-year-old."

"You underestimate Mei's ability." Buir answered.

"I sure as hell hope so."

The proximity alert began to beep.

"We're approaching their radar." Skooge said.

"Let's hope we stay off it."

* * *

Phthalo blinked himself awake, yawning fitfully. He cautiously tested his muscles by slowly moving his arms, and he was glad to find the pain absent.

"You're at a hundred percent again." Cyanine's voice explained, "Your Pak cleared the poison out of your system while you were asleep. How are you feeling?"

Phthalo turned his head to see the green-eyed Irken looking somewhat exhausted, still sitting beside his bed. "Much better." He answered before giving his partner a questioning looking, "How long have you been sitting there?"

The Irken glanced at the clock, "Eh, seven or eight hours."

Phthalo's bright blue eyes bulged in disbelief, "Why would you waste _seven hours_ sitting in a chair?"

"You asked me to stay."

"Well, yeah, but I… guess I didn't know I'd be out _that_ long."

"I don't mind."

"I feel so bad… you haven't eaten or anything all day."

He sighed heavily, "Honestly, Phthalo, I couldn't have stomached it. I'm so sorry, again, for what you had to go through. I tried to help and I just made it worse."

"You still _tried_."

"I could've tried _harder_."

"Relax, Cy. It's over and I'm feeling better. Let's get something to eat. We'll tell the secretary not to bother us unless it's a matter of life or death, and then we'll come back here and watch a vid or something."

"Are you sure you're up to it?"

"Did you just ask me if I felt up to _relaxing_?"

"…I guess I did. I just," he fumbled for words, "I don't want you to exhaust yourself, or something."

"I just slept for _eight hours_. I won't be tired for a while." Phthalo said, on his feet, "Just let me grab a decent robe and we'll hit the cafeteria."

"So… what kind of vid do you wanna watch when we get back?" Cyanine asked as his partner disappeared into the closet.

Phthalo sighed, "I haven't seen a vid in… well, it feels like _forever_." He mused. "Nothing upsetting. We've filled the trauma quota for this lifetime."

"You got that right. So that knocks out tragedy, drama, horror, and musical theater."

"What's so bad about musical theater?"

"You actually _like_ that singing and dancing crap?"

"Um, yeah. Is there something wrong with that?"

"No, not at all. That's kinda cute, actua," Cyanine clamped his hands over his mouth mid-syllable, his face hot and flushed with embarrassment.

Phthalo poked his head out, "…You think I'm cute?"

"How about a comedy? Comedies are good, something funny and mindless, we could do with that." The green-eyed Irken rambled in an attempt to avoid the question.

Phthalo grinned, "You _do_ think I'm cute." Before ducking back into the changing area.

"You aren't exactly hard on the eyes, Phthalo." He explained.

The blue-eyed Irken straightened his robe and suddenly, the enthusiasm in his heart sank. Without the mirrors, he'd almost forgotten what he really looked like. The thought of the shatter at the center of his chest and the emaciated, unnatural length of his torso made him cringe. Pain shot through where a finger ought to be and Phthalo just sighed. So _what_ if Cyanine thought he was cute? He'd never seen the ugly parts.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered why the thought bothered him at all, because it wasn't like there was a reason for Cyanine to see parts of him that would involve the removal of clothing and there _definitely_ was no reason to think Cyanine would _ever_ see him like that, and why was he thinking about being naked with Cyanine in the _first place_ – unless he actually _wanted_ that and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and forced his mind quiet.

Composing himself as best he could, Phthalo stepped out of the changing area. Any façade he may have conjured in the seconds he'd taken to collect himself caved in when he looked at his co-leader.

The first words out of Cyanine's mouth were, "What's wrong" accompanied by a concerned expression.

Phthalo felt a pang of hurt and the noise in his head started getting louder and louder.

"Why won't you look at me?" The green-eyed leader asked, "Did I say something wrong? I didn't mean to be so forward, I'm sorry."

The other Irken felt overwhelmed with confusion. There were too many voices in his mind, yelling too many different things. He wasn't sure which to listen to, and there was no way to know what the right answer was. He couldn't even tell which voice was _his_ anymore.

_You can't imagine how ugly I am_

_I hate you, I hate you, I hate you_

_I'm not worth it_

_I can't,_

_I'm not,_

_You won't want me_

_Want me_

_I want_

_Hate you_

_I can't_

_Don't want_

_Want to_

_hate you_

_No, I don't_

_I don't_

_want_

_Want_

_I want_

_you_

_can't (want)_

_(me), want this (please)_

_don't (want)_

_(me), please (just)_

_don't (want )_

_(me)_

Abandoning all reason and shoving aside every sound clamoring in his skull, he threw his arms around the other Irken and listened to the noise drown out. Cyanine was a little surprised by the sudden gesture, but he was not hesitant to return it. Whatever had been bothering Phthalo, he seemed to have gotten rid of by the time he released his Co-Tallest.

"Sorry about that… just needed a second to clear my head."

"No problem. Do you wanna talk about it?"

"It's… I think it's something I have to work out on my own. I'll keep the offer in mind, though."

Cyanine nodded, "All right. You know I'm here whether you need it or not."

Phthalo smiled and felt relief and sharp pain at the same time. "So, are you still hungry?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Let's get something to eat, then. We can figure out which vid we wanna watch later."

* * *

The Void Ship hadn't fired on them yet, and Tak had managed a remote hack of its systems. The easy part was over.

"On course and in position," Tak said, "initiating alarm in Sector 66 in five, four, three, two, one," Tak sent the command, "releasing breaching pod." It landed successfully, attaching itself to the outside of the void ship.

"Prisoner Escape Protocol activated. Heavy movement toward Sector 66. You're clear to breach."

"Sonic vibrations read -64.8 discrepancy." Tenn said.

"The laser frequency can't cut through that without vibrating through the hull like a jackhammer." Skooge said, "Someone will notice. We've got to abort."

"No we don't," Tak replied, "open up the frequency detector."

" _Why_?"

Tak clearly paid no mind to Skooge's question. "Once you've got it open, disconnect the input/output wires _completely_. Reverse them so the green wire plugs into the first socket on the left, but _make sure_ you flip them upside-down so the end that was plugged into the bottom now plugs into the top."

"What the _hell_ are you talking about, Tak?"

"I'm _trying_ to help, Skooge. You can turn the frequency detector into a tuner that will feed through the laser. It'll analyze the discrepancy and feed a sonic pulse through the light beam."

"Oh. How long will it take?"

"Eight minutes, if you're as fast as I am."

Skooge sighed. "And the rest of us?"

"Maybe fifteen." Her satisfied smirk was nearly audible.

"Ok, Tak, I've got the wires reconnected." Tenn said, "What next?"

"Now it gets a little tricky."

* * *

"How long have we been sitting here?" Red asked, bored out of his mind, half asleep on the waiting room couch beside his partner, who was in much the same state.

"Maybe an hour and forty-five minutes. Forty six."

"I'm tired."

"Rest, then. I'll wake you when she comes back." Purple gave a tired laugh, "Told you we wouldn't be able to handle physical exertion yet."

Red curled up against the other Irken and yawned, "I'm trying to think of a witty comeback."

The physiotherapist returned to find the two Irkens half asleep, desperately clinging to the fringes of consciousness. They blinked themselves awake and into awareness, trying to give the woman their full attention.

"I'm sorry that took so long," she said, "I wanted to double-check the readouts and then run a quick comparative analysis of your charts, just to see if there were any discrepancies between the two of you."

"Can we walk around and do normal things yet?" Purple asked, attempting to cut to the proverbial chase.

"Well, I definitely want you walking from now on. You haven't reached optimal muscle mass yet, nor do you have what I'd consider the standard amount of strength, and you haven't built up enough endurance. I'd say that you're capable of light jogging and an easy to moderate workout. Your backs still need quite a bit of muscular rehabilitation. What we've done today should help, but you'll ache pretty badly tomorrow. The good news is that another round of treatment should really ease that."

"Is that all for the day?" Red asked, "I think both of us just really want to be in bed at this point."

The physiotherapist gave a half-cringe, "I, uh… I wouldn't recommend resuming such a… _vigorous_ routine just yet. Maybe you could start easing into it again after another day or so of treatment, but, well, since the doctor wants you here overnight, we'd… we'd just like to keep the sheets clean."

Red shot the woman a hard glare, "Contrary to popular belief, our relationship is _not_ based on marathon sex. I've had one partner in my entire life, and so has he." The Irken replied, gesturing to his mate, "Yeah, we have a great physically-intimate relationship, but don't think for a second that I'd be any less satisfied if we couldn't. I could hold him for the rest of my life and I'd be _just_ as happy. I wouldn't ever think about complaining. Making a physical commitment to someone on Irk is the equivalent of signing your own death warrant. It's _not_ my way of saying that I love him. When we make love, I'm _proving_ that I'm willing to _die_ for him.  Is sex something _really_ so casual for you people? Does it mean _that_ little?"

Embarrassment flooded the physiotherapist's face and she struggled for words for a moment. "…I-I'm sorry. It's just… people say things and the truth gets twisted and I made a terrible assumption. I had no idea. I didn't mean to offend you."

"It's all right. It's a bit of a sensitive topic, that's all."

"Well, um… your room is ready and the night nurse is on duty so if you need anything at all, just ring for her."

Red nodded, "Thank you."

She acknowledged him with a polite, "you're welcome" before she left, eyes trained on her feet as she exited room.

The red-eyed Irken stood up and stretched, yawning fitfully. He started toward the room the physiotherapist had specified, but stopped when he noticed his partner hadn't left the couch.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't decide if I hate you because you did exactly what I asked you _not_ to do and it caused exactly what I was afraid of, or if I love you for not being ashamed of it in the first place."

"I hope you choose the latter."

"Why didn't you tell me you felt like that?"

Red shrugged, "I'm no good with words, Pur. That's always been your thing." He sighed, "It's… you can't imagine what it's like to know I how I can make you feel. You trust me to bring you to the edge and let you fall. Seeing the look on your face and holding you afterward… it's more than I could ever ask for. I know I joke and everything, but I'm not trying to be… I mean, I've made more than my fair share of dirty jokes, but I've never actually felt like they were _dirty_ , you know? I don't think there's anything wrong with what we do. Yeah, we have fun and get creative with things sometimes, but it's not like we're _sick_. I just… do they all really think of us like that?"

Purple gave a small, soft smile and finally got to his feet. Sighing, he took his partner's face in his hands, "Don't move."

"What's wrong?" He asked, full of concern.

"Nothing, Love." He said, nuzzling into his mate's forehead, "I'm happy, is all. You're so beautiful, Red. I don't say that enough."

"You look like you're about to cry, Pur."

He took a deep breath and gave a small laugh, "I never thought I'd see you look at me like that again." The violet-eyed Irken explained. "Innocent. The way you used to when we were kids. I see it sometimes when you sleep, but this was different. Naive, almost, but not in a bad way. I never want to forget what that looks like."

Red embraced his mate. "I'm glad."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe we never really lost all those things. Maybe we just lost sight of them."

"Oh Pur," Red replied, "you just said I was right again."

Purple's eyes snapped open.

Red grinned, "That's _twice_ in the same day."

"Even Shloonktapooxis can't kill a moment as badly as you just did. You just lost your win points, Dear."

"I guess I did kinda ruin the vibe."

Purple sighed, "You're something else, Red," finally withdrawing, he laid a hand against Red's cheek, "and I don't know how I got so lucky."

Red smiled a different kind of smile. This one was curious and almost coy, somewhere between a satisfied child and satiated adult. It happened on its own and provoked a similar one from his mate.

"I think I know what you mean."

* * *

Someone had to have recognized him by now. The Empire was broadcasting his face on every station and bounty office and 'wanted' poster. Even if he had, by some miracle, gone unseen, it would not be for much longer. He let out an inaudible nervous sigh as his shaking hands adjusted the hood obscuring his face. Desperately trying to control his tremors, he startled when he waked into another alien. He gasped and recoiled in terror, careful to hide his head and regain his balance.

"Watch where you're walking, you fucking junkie." The alien shot back, flipping the other off as he walked away.

Kaff always had an excitable nature, and it was not working in his favor at the moment. He ventured a quick glace around him and was no longer surprised that the alien he'd walked into had thought he was a junkie. Clearly, he'd made his way into the less-than-savory part of Wherever He Was. The former Irken scientist had taken the first transport off Irk without looking at the destination. While changing his clothes, he had been sure to take a moment to deactivate the tracking beacon in his Pak, but he wasn't sure how much time that had bought him, if any at all.

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt when An arm wrapped around his waist and he felt someone's face near his. He turned away to obscure his identity.

"Hey, Baby," a soft, feminine voice purred, "if you've got the cash, you don't have to hide that face."

He felt her fingers playing at the edge of the hood and froze in pure panic.

"How about it?"

And then _something_ grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the woman's grip.

"That's _my_ fucking customer, Bitch!" She shouted angrily.

Whoever had hold of his arm shoved him into a wall.

"Customer? Hah! _This guy_ is a lyin' sack of shit. We agreed on half upfront and then half afterward. He tried to skip out on the other half of the cash, thinkin' I wouldn't find him."

Kaff was thoroughly confused and completely terrified of the woman staring him down. Half a head shorter than himself, her skin was light blue in color with all the markers of an Azurian. Upright bi-pedal life forms with a seahorse-like crown at the top of their heads, they were once aquatic creatures that evolved to suit the land. Irk had long since done away with Azuria. He would have been fascinated by her existence if he hadn't been so afraid for his life.

"He didn't pay?"

"He's gonna _pay,_ all right."

"My mistake. He's all yours. Get your ass off my corner, there's a cop heading over and I gotta make rent this cycle."

The former scientist was forcefully pulled around the corner and into the alley as the Azurian clamped her hand over his mouth.

"Calm down and shut up. Just play along and I can get you someplace safe."

He inhaled, but before he could speak, her mouth was on his.

It was a new level of confusion for Kaff. Cross-dimensional Quantum Physics seemed like child's play in comparison to whatever the hell was currently going on. He attempted to participate in the gesture but he found that like many other things, this was much easier in theory than practice.

He heard the other woman exchanging flirtatious comments with a masculine voice he assumed belonged to the aforementioned cop, and immediately panicked.

The Azurian pinning him against the wall made a frustrated noise and bit his lip in a fashion that was anything but gentle. The other woman was oblivious as she and her customer passed the alley, but the cop slowed down and paused a moment.

"Excuse me," he said, loud enough to have obviously have been directed at Kaff and the nameless woman with her tongue in his mouth.

"Yes, Officer?" She giggled stupidly, breaking the kiss.

"Would you be interested in joining my friend and I? I'll pay double whatever _he's_ paying you."

"Aw, fair is fair, Officer. He found me first. Maybe next time, ok?" She grabbed Kaff's lapels and turned him so his back was to the cop. She walked beside him until she was certain the other man was not pursuing them. Grabbing hold of the former Scientist's hand, "Try and keep up." She said, breaking into a sprint.

* * *

Lard Nar immediately recognized the knocks at his door as belonging to Spleenk. "You know you don't have to knock, Spleenk."

"Yes, I do." He said, "This is _your_ space and no matter how welcome I am, like everybody else, I respect it."

At any other time, the Captain would have been grateful. As it was, he just sighed and went back to work.

"So, what are you are up to?"

" _Working_."

"Anything I can help you with?"

"It involves keeping a lot of shit organized, which isn't exactly your forte."

Spleenk looked mildly hurt before the expression morphed into concern, "You can talk to me, you know. After everything that's happened lately I would like to think you know that."

"Yes, thanks, and you've said it so often that you ought to make it your catch phrase."

"Well you don't act like you're hearing me whenever I do."

He sighed, "I'm tired, Spleenk. I've got a shitload of work to do and I've only got a few hours to get it done so you'll have to excuse me but I'm a bit busy being the leader of an underground resistance movement and I really haven't got the time for you to shrink my head."

Spleenk made a frustrated noise. "How many times do I have to tell you that _I don't want to be your doctor!_?"

"I don't know. Until you stop treating me like a patient, I suppose."

"It's _never_ been like that! I just want to be on the same level and know what's going on in your life, and I'm pretty sure that's the definition of caring about someone!"

"Stop treating me like I'm fragile!" He shouted, slamming his fist into the desk, "I don't need to be coddled or protected from the world; I'm not a child, I don't _need_ you to hold my hand!"

Spleenk allowed a beat of silence to pass between them, finally understanding what was happening. "We're _all_ fragile, 'Nar, in one way or another. When you loose the ability to break, you lose the ability to connect. You can't ever really trust someone unless you trust them with something worth losing. Something breakable.

I already _had_ a child. I'm not holding your hand because I want to replace her. I'm doing it because I want you to you hold mine."

The Captain stared at his desk in silence for a few moments, "…Why do put up with all this, Spleenk?"

"Because I care about you."

"You couldn't have picked a _worse_ time to start."

"Nar, I started caring about you a _long_ time ago." He smiled.

His head shot up from his desk, looking at Spleenk with a questioning glance, "You did?"

The other alien nodded. "Why do you think I joined this thing in the first place?"

"B-b…because, because _you_ more than _anyone_ here has good reason to hate the Irken Empire!"

Spleenk shrugged, "None of that mattered. After I got clean, I had nothing to care about. At least with the drugs, as weird as it sounds, I had something to do. Whether it was getting a fix or trying to find one, I was motivated. When all that was gone, I just had myself and a whole lot of _nothing_."

"It's hard to imagine you like that."

"Drugged out of my mind?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you talk about this,"

"It's ok. I've been around long enough to know that you can't change who you've been. All you can change is what you're going to be."

"Easy to say."

"Always is. But you eventually get to say it, and that's the point."

The Captain shrugged.

"Have someone else deal with arranging refugee transports. The last thing you need on your mind is _him_."

Lard Nar shook his head in exasperation, "He's already found a way to screw with the relationship I don't even have yet."

"So return the favor. Send him to Planet Dirt, or that Compost Planet. I'm sure Red would be _more_ than happy to hack his navigation system and redirect his flight destination."

The Captain smiled. " _This_ is _exactly_ why I keep listening to you."

"You know that when I suggested _Resisty_ as our name, I meant it as a joke, right?"

"Did you really want to be the _Pirate Monkeys_?"

"…Fair enough."

* * *

When Tenn had finished making the necessary modifications to the device, Skoodge applied an atom clamp to the breaching area.

He drew in a deep breath, "If this goes wrong, remember I suggested we abort."

Tenn rolled her eyes, "Beginning breach. Universe, help us all." She said, powering on the modified laser-tool. Her she nearly dropped it when an unexpected jolt of _something_ shot through her. Memory of searing pain and the smell of burning flesh, the taste of blood and its sick and stale smell consumed her as she felt the agony of her own insides sealing shut; the laser cauterizer pressed against her skin as she screamed and thrashed on instinct.

"Tenn,"

Skoodge's voice bringing her back to reality. It had been less than a second, but it didn't matter. "You're gonna drop the laser-saw!"

Her grip tightened around it, "No, I'm not. I'm _fine_." She replied a bit harshly, sighing before she began breaching the hull.

The laser would have to cut through _both_ the breaching area of their pod as well as the hull of the void ship. Standard procedure with a breaching pod involved launching several of them at a time to clamp on to whatever ship or a space station you wished to occupy. The pod would burn through and create an atmospheric-sealed bond instantly and the soldiers would deploy. This was usually during heavy firefights or when noise was not an issue. With the void ship, they had to maintain stealth _and_ breach a very unique metal.

"Breach at 50-percent." Tenn said, "Atmospheric sealant seems to be holding."

Skoodge didn't like the way Tenn's hands were shaking. It wasn't enough to be detrimental at the moment but depending on the root of the problem, it could serve to really complicate things in the near future and they _really_ did not need complications.

He took a deep breath and watched her finish cutting through, "Breach complete."

Skoodge nodded and pulled both scrapped pieces of hull across the opening and into the pod, creating an open gateway to the void ship. "Atmospheric sealant is effective. We're ready to board."

Skoodge looked at Tenn strangely when they entered the cargo hold.

"What?"

"You can't carry that thing," he said in reference to the large sword across her back, "people will notice."

"They'll be too busy running for the life-pods."

"Can't you just use a gun like everyone else?"

"I've got one."

"I don't,"

"I'm taking it with me."

Skoodge exhaled heavily, "Just _once_ , I'd love it if _someone_ would listen to me." He muttered. "All right, fine. Do what you want. Wait for confirmation from Tak, and take your route to the control room. I'll meet you there. If I'm caught, you'll have to go in without me, but otherwise, _wait for me_."

Tenn nodded in confirmation.

"All right, Mei, start the mass self-destruct hallucination."

She nodded and closed her eyes, focusing deeply. Tak wasn't sure she could distract the seer if she tried.

"Tak, kill the alarms in 66. I don't want anyone getting confused."

"You got it."

"Let me know when there's movement."

"There's movement, Skoodge."

"…Already?"

"They're flocking toward the pods, which…" she said, pausing to type for a moment, "won't launch until my command. Redirecting escape pod flight routes now."

"Good. Tenn and I are heading out."

"Ready when you are." The Irken female answered with a fiercely determined look on her face.

"Ok. See you at the control room."

Tenn nodded, maneuvering to the other side of the hallway.

Skoodge took a deep breath and ducked into the room adjacent to the cargo hold they had breached.

A Void Ship was about the size of a luxury deep-space liner, which meant it was about half the size of the Massive and Skooge needed to make sure he reached the control room. He didn't know what was wrong with Tenn, but she wasn't at her best. It made him _very_ uncomfortable, to put it mildly.

He took a few deep breaths and steadied himself, mentally erecting the best barriers he could to keep himself as removed from the hallucination as possible. He still sensed the panic around him, heard the alarms and flashing lights despite _knowing_ that it wasn't real. As long as he kept focused on his objective, he wouldn't slip into paranoia or hysteria. It itched at him in the back of his mind; the primal fight, flight, and paralysis responses did not like being ignored.

He just hoped Tenn could keep maintain a clear head.

* * *

Tenn had been doing just fine, until an idle thought crept into her head. She wondered if one of _Them_ were on this ship. It wouldn't be illogical, especially if they were building something in the void. Normally, this kind of thought would have made her hyper-aware and more focused. At the moment, though, she felt herself unable to breathe.

' _Please not now.'_ She begged herself, _'Just get to the control room. A few more floors and you're there.'_

She squeezed her eyes shut and saw the tall, black-cloaked Irken and she instantly tried to shake it from her mind and ignore the surge of panic that flooded through her at the memory. She opened her eyes, but all she saw was the prison on Vort. The same fear pounded in her mind as her pulse spiked through the roof in the exact way she remembered it had.

" _Well, well, well… you've caused quite a stir around here, little lady. But we know you couldn't have done it alone. You had help, didn't you?"_

Her head whipped around at the voice and the female former-Invader nearly choked on her heart as it leapt in her throat… Tenn swore she could feel it beating in her trachea.

There it was. The Irken who kept her awake at night, lurked in her dreams, and lived in the corner of her eye. The thing she saw in every shadow, what was always waiting at the edge of every mirror, behind every closed door, or around the next blind corner… the thing that _could not be_ somehow _was_ , and staring with that casual, arrogant grin. She did not see the face just yet, but she knew she didn't have to. She could feel it. She stared with terrified eyes and a wide-open mouth as she staggered backward, dropping her communicator. Oh well. In the back of her mind, Tenn sensed a disconnect, but her consciousness was far too overwhelmed to care.

" _Oh come now, we're_ hardly _strangers, you and I."_

She pulled her pulse pistol from its holster, "Stay back, or I'll,"

" _Shoot me where it won't grow back?"_ It snickered in a sickeningly familiar tone.

Tears welled up behind her eyes and the Irken grit her teeth and tightened her grip on the pistol in her violently shaking hands. "You can't be here."

" _You're so very wrong, Tenn. I don't remember you being this stupid."_

"And I don't remember telling you my name."

An eerie, knowing smile spread across the Irken's mouth and the dark fabric revealed the hooded figure's face.

"…This… this isn't real…"

* * *

Kaff had long since given up on making sense of _anything._ There's no point in going mad in order to stop yourself from going mad. You might as well just give in and save your sanity for later. With that sentiment in mind, the scientist was dragged down a maze of alleyways and streets he ran by too quickly to read the names of until they finally came to a stop outside a bar that looked as if it had seen much better days.

He followed her inside and watched her nod to the bartender on her way into the kitchen. She struggled with the side panel near what Kaff assumed was a dumbwaiter until she kicked it, and the panel came off without protest. Letting out a satisfied sigh, she calmly entered a series of passcodes before scanning her hand, and once she'd passed a retinal scan, the wall slid open to reveal an elevator.

Kaff would've been surprised, if he the man were capable of being surprised by things after the happenings of the last hour.

"What I'm wonderin' is how the hell you even made it _this far_ without gettin' yourself dead."

Words weren't really working for Kaff at the moment so he stammered a few times before managing a sentence, "Who are you? Where the _hell_ am I?"

" _I_ just saved your ass. You went and got yourself picked up by a prostitute, which I _ain't_ , by the way. I had to make you seem worthless to her, 'cause either her or the cop wouldda turned you in faster than you can spit. I had to improvise – which ain't exactly in your realm of expertise."

"Oh. Um, well… thanks, I guess. For saving me."

"Don't thank me, Sweetheart, I'm just carrying out orders."

Panic. " _Who's_ orders?"

"Relax. I'd have turned you in if I were with Irk. You weren't born with an overabundance of common sense, were you?"

"I take offense to that."

She laughed a little, "Sorry. Can't help it."

"You told me what you did, but I _still_ don't know who you are. Or why I'm here. Or where 'here' is."

"You're on Tauron 'cause I'm guessin' you bought a ticket on the first transport leavin' Irk when you became Public Enemy number one. I'm Lulu."

"How'd you know where I was?"

"Nothin' happens on this planet that don't go through _me_ first. Tauron's a layover planet. Best place to collect information."

"Wait. You're with that resistance group, aren't you? The… the…what are they called again?"

She sighed, cringing, " _The_ _Resisty_."

Kaff doubled over in laughter.

"I'm told it was either that or 'Pirate Monkeys'. I ain't sure which one is worse, to be honest."

"I'm sorry," he said, "I don't mean to laugh, it's just…"

"It's ok." She replied with a smile. "It works to our advantage."

"How do you figure _that_?"

"We'll always be underestimated."

Kaff considered her words for a moment and had to agree.

"Wait." He said, realization kicking in, "If you're resistance… am I a hostage?"

"Sometimes, I don't know whether to laugh at you or smack you upside the head. If you were a hostage, Darlin', you'd know it."

"Then _why_ am I here? I'm guessing this is your base."

"You're here because you tested those injections. The ones your government is promising every man, woman and child under x-feet tall."

"Those compounds were tainted, someone had to have tampered with them. _You_ probably tampered with them!"

She shook her head and sighed, "Those weren't tampered with, Sweetie Pie. That poison is _supposed_ _to_ turn your planet into a graveyard. Think about it. If it was terrorism, why hasn't any group stepped up to claim responsibility? Why would your government want you dead? You know something you ain't supposed to know, and they're gonna keep on after you until they get what they want."

"You're _wrong_! The Tallest – they can't, they _wouldn't_!"

She sighed sympathetically, "Your Tallests ain't the ones in charge. They ain't _never_ been and they got no choice."

"You're not making _any_ sense!"

But she _was_ making sense. _Too much_ sense, actually. The Tallest had come to interview the team that had tested the inoculations, all of whom met their untimely demise (except Kaff) and the evidence was destroyed.

He still had that disc from… someone's Pak. The body was too mangled for him to tell at the time. He felt the urge to vomit and gripped the side of the elevator for balance. _No no no no nononothisisn'thappening…_

"You can cry about it later. We ain't got much time."

They reached the bottom floor, and Kaff would've been surprised at the level of technology around him, but he wouldn't have been surprised if the stapler started tap-dancing at that point.

"You got information we need. We'll offer you protection and safety. Your government ain't gonna do you any favors."

"You've made that _clear_." He snapped.

"Look, I get that you feel betrayed and confused and homeless and whatnot. You're in good company. Everybody here ain't got nothing left to lose."

"If that was supposed to help,"

"You see that man over there?" She pointed forcefully, "The Cryelon with the burns? Your people locked him in a coffin and put him in a crematorium, _still alive,_ just because they _could_. About half the people on this base are Tauronites who survived the organic sweep. Before you start cryin', you have a sob story contest with any one of us."

Kaff felt deeply ashamed. Apologies ran through his head but no words could ever hope to mean anything to these people. She was right; Kaff had no right to cry over his situation. He tried to think of what to say, but all that came out was,

"What about you? What's your story?"

Her eyes softened for a moment in memory and then it was gone, "My story is for another time, Sweetie." She sighed, "The way I see it, you ain't got no other choice. We ain't gonna force you to help us, but if you'd like to survive through the end of the cycle, it ain't a question."

"But… _today_ is the last day of the cycle."

"At the rate you were going, you would've been dead an hour and a half ago. I don't imagine you'd have lasted much longer on your own out there."

"This is insanity. Why am I considering this?"

"'Cause you're clever." She answered, matter-of-factly. "You ain't got street smarts worth shit, but you're book-smart and curious. You're _paid_ to be curious, so you can figure out how things work. It's your job to see what the soldiers and the drones can't. You're made special."

"What do you mean, _made special_? We're all born the same way."

"Just a theory we got. We think you're fitted with different programming."

"How the hell does _that_ make sense?"

"You ran, didn't you?"

"What?"

"When you saw what happened, you ran. You ran, and _didn't_ call the police. In fact," she explained with a knowing grin, "you even took your tracking beacon out. Hell, you _left_ the planet. Ever ask yourself _why?_ "

* * *

"Why _can't it be real?"_

"You _can't_ be _me_." She said to the taller, black-cloaked version of herself. "You're not the Irken who stabbed me. I know what he looked like. I saw his face before I blew his head off. You changed. All this is a dream. Maybe I got knocked out, or something, but whatever happened, I know this isn't real."

" _Tell me,"_ it asked, _"what do you think you're doing here, playing like you're some kind of heroine? Fighting the good fight in hopes of… what? Saving the universe from something you can't even hope to understand? You were ready to lie down and_ die _for your little rag-tag team of real-life rejects-turned-freedom-fighters; it was so inspiring and dedicated it almost made me vomit._ Pathetic, _is what it was. Screaming like a child while the Captain saved the life you don't deserve. You don't think he knows, Tenn, what you really are?_

_You're an Irken. You'll never change that. Your whole life, whether you know it or not, you've been one of_ Them _. You did what you were told without ever asking why. You fought and killed in the name of your race, because your Tallest told you to. The same Tallest who carried out_ Their _orders. They won't ever be absolved of the things they've done, and they know it. They have the decency to accept responsibility for the lives they've taken and everything they've destroyed. You just don't want to think about it._

_Nine planets, Tenn. K'aotom, Si-io, Ruamit, Kyang, Hauakai, Takko, Bamimu, Namplafriik, and Sarim. Meekrob would be on that list if there hadn't been a mix-up at the post office. Do you know what that much blood looks like? You don't, and it's a real shame, girl, because you're drowning in it. You're gonna stand there and tell me we're not the same? I know what I am; the imagery is just for dramatic emphasis."_

"I'm not like that anymore." She replied in a shaking tone.

" _If you really believe that, why does this bother you so much?"_

* * *

Tak had been running routine checks on everyone and checking in via communicator until she noticed a change and immediately called Skooge, "I think we've got a problem."

"Let me guess: Tenn's communicator is disabled."

"How'd you,"

"Never mind." He sighed in frustration, "How many pods are full?"

"Only twenty left to launch. Wow. These guys are efficient."

"Rough estimate of personnel left?"

"Twenty five."

"Not bad, considering how big this thing is."

"Nobody but the captain usually goes down with the ship. He's the only one in the control room. The pilots left a while ago. If you can get in and take him down, just seal off the bridge and we're golden. I'll send Buir to deal with whatever happened to Tenn. It looks like she's alone, but being guarded by… 24 life forms, according to my readings."

Skooge sighed and grit his teeth. He _really_ didn't want any shooting going on. He hoped that the tranquilizer gun would be enough to subdue the Irken on the bridge. He knew that loss of life was going to be inevitable eventually. He knew it was wrong, but knowing that a fellow Irken would be at the business end of his gun-barrel made the cold reality of things set in.

Until now, it he'd never fought with malice against members of his own race. He'd known what he was signing up for at the beginning, that there would come the time when he might even face some of the people he once regarded as friendly acquaintances in a firefight, and Skooge was not the type to lose. Though he never looked it, Skooge was an _excellent_ soldier and at the moment, part of him really hated that.

Shaking his head, he readied himself to enter the bridge, "I'm going in." Pressing the 'open door' button on the access panel, Skooge stepped onto the flight deck and had tranquilizer darts in the captain's neck before he'd been able to turn his head.

He sighed in relief as he watched the fast-acting chemical take effect. "Bridge is secured. Any word on Tenn yet?"

* * *

All it had taken was a second day of physiotherapy. The former Tallest were not only back on their feet, but Purple could feel his agility beginning to return. It wasn't any enormous accomplishment; the Irken knew he had a very long way to go, and would most likely have to follow a strict exercise routine regularly for the rest of his life, but he couldn't imagine finding a reason to complain. His movements were sharper, reflexes were slightly quicker, and his reaction time had increased dramatically. Maybe he'd never move like he used to, but that didn't matter.

Purple used to think that if he could, in less than a heartbeat he would go back in time to _any_ time Before _Them_. When he and Red were still ignorant and shared an unbreakable friendship (and more than a few unspoken, wayward thoughts about each other). Now though, despite the trauma and the horror and ugliness of the past, he wouldn't want to go back. Being here and now was worth every piece of matching luggage in his extensive set of baggage. What he and Red and made together, managed to build in spite of everything was worth it. He wouldn't ever be what he used to, but that was okay. He was happy with what he was; cracked sternum, cybergenic finger, stretched spine, and all.

By the time their session was over and they were allowed to go back to their actual room for the first time in days, Purple found himself unable to do anything but smile.

"Looks like we'll be in pretty solid condition for our trip to the Shrieking Void." Red paused, reflecting for a moment, "Okay, that didn't sound nearly as cheerful out loud as it did in my head."

Purple gave a short laugh. "Looks like."

" _You_ look like you've got something on your mind."

Purple gave his mate a faux-innocent shrug, "Maybe."

"Sounds like _maybe_ something good."

"I was thinking about our conversation yesterday."

"Which one? We do talk quite a bit."

"The one I know you haven't gotten out of your head."

Red gave a pleased smile, folding his arms across his chest, "Is that so?"

Purple gave a nod. "I told you, I know your type."

"I don't know about that. I bet I'll surprise you."

"That's what they _all_ say."

"Care to test that theory?"

"I'd _love_ to."

Red kissed his partner in the way he knew could seduce him in a matter of seconds. Purple melted in the other Irken's arms, returning the gesture as if he'd grown addicted to it. Red grinned inwardly celebrating victory – which was cut incredibly short by the feeling of cold metal locking around his wrists.

Purple's sly, knowing grin taunted his partner for a brief moment. "You didn't think it'd be _that_ easy, did you?"

Red tried to respond and found rational thought had become quite difficult, as if his brain was starting to fog up. "…Where'd you get these?"

"Security storage room." Purple replied.

"You always were resourceful."

"I hope you're not too tired from today." Purple said with a hand on his partner's chest, urging him to lay back. "You've got a very long night ahead of you."

Red groaned. "I'm trying to think of a way this could get better."

"Oh, I've got a few ideas."

* * *

Phthalo didn't really know _what_ to think, but he was kind of all right with that. He and Cyanine had eaten tacos and selected some mindless comedy vid neither one of them was currently paying attention to. Cyanine had fought sleep as long as he could, until his eyes could no longer stay open and Phthalo hadn't really noticed, until he felt the weight of the other Irken collapsing against him.

There was a brief moment of anxiety, but as he went to disengage himself from the sleeping Irken, he found himself at ease. Plus, he reasoned, he might accidentally wake the green-eyed Irken up, and Cyanine had sat by his bed, wracked with guilt for eight hours. At the very least, he deserved the courtesy of not being disturbed.

In time, Cyanine unconsciously curled up against his co-leader. Phthalo once again failed to notice, until Cyanine nuzzled into his shoulder. Without thinking, the blue-eyed Tallest repositioned his arm to reach around the sleeping Irken's shoulders as if it were an instinctual response. He _almost_ panicked, but Cyanine seemed pretty content with it, so Phthalo was calm. In the back of his mind, there was still that voice reminding him that this was Not Appropriate but Phthalo was finding it remarkably easy to ignore that voice when Cyanine was around.

Even the calamity of voices that had sent him into a panic earlier that day were absent. Yeah, Phthalo knew he wouldn't be winning any beauty pageants any time soon, but Cyanine had suffered the same injuries, so why would he think that the other Irken would reject him for it?

There it was, again. Phthalo wasn't even sure _what_ he felt for Cyanine at this point, if it was anything at all. Cyanine seemed to like him well enough; he said that he had liked the time that Phthalo touched him, and he thought the other Irken was attractive. That was good. Well, if Phthalo wanted Cyanine to like him, it had to be worth _something_. Phthalo blushed slightly, very grateful that the other was asleep.

He sighed, letting go of his thoughts and losing himself in the vidscreen light and calm, easy sound of Cyanine's breathing. Why think about it? Why not just let it happen, and be surprised?

* * *

The room of twenty-something Irken Elite Guards snapped to attention and readied their energy pistols. "Put down your weapons!" They shouted at the alien obscured by silver armor.

"I will give you one chance to do the intelligent thing and leave this ship. There are enough life-pods left to ensure you safe passage." Buir explained in a calm, even tone, "You have a fellow soldier of mine, and I would like her returned unharmed. I do not wish to kill you all, but I will not be hesitant to spill your blood. If you value your lives, you will abide my request."

One shaking hand lowered his pulse pistol and the Irken slowly backed away. The rest of his squad looked at him with an overwhelming degree of disgust. "You've just earned yourself a citation for disobedience and attempting to undermine authority, Soldier." Said the Squad Leader.

Buir nodded at him, "Stay back. You will be spared, just as I promised."

"You're a little outnumbered, if you don't mind my saying so."

The Paladin said nothing, drawing an elaborate sword with detailed engravings and embossing with a wide blade.

"Who brings a knife to a gun fight?"

The Paladin did not dignify the man with a response. He moved impossibly fast, having finished with the first five soldiers in his way before the others could even register that he had moved. Throwing his full weight into two of them, the fell off balance and fell backward, each of them startling two more. It delayed them just long enough for Buir to quickly deliver a fatal stab to each of them as he moved effortlessly through the team of guards. They fired frantically at the Paladin moving too fast to keep up with, killing several of their own men in the process.

When Buir reached the Squad Leader, he sliced the man's hands clean off before they could pull the trigger. "It was you who made the mistake of assuming that this was a gun fight." He said plainly, before delivering a fatal stab to his chest. The Paladin sighed and wiped his blade clean with a cloth attached to his belt before sheathing his weapon.

"Now you will show me to my compatriot."

The terrified soldier did not hesitate to lead Buir to the interrogation room where the unconscious Tenn was being kept. "What happened to her?"

"O-one of the guards k-knocked her out from behind… hit her p-pretty hard. I think, I think she's okay, though."

He lifted the Irken over his shoulder and carried her effortlessly as he escorted the soldier to whom he had promised safe passage to the life-pods.

"If you remember this," Buir said, unsure if Mei would be able to wipe his mind or not, "remember that you were all given a choice. We do not kill in the name of anything. We only resort to violence when there is no other alternative to protect an innocent life. Speak of us to _no one_."

Skoodge was thankful when the Paladin arrived to relieve him of the ship's captain. He'd been getting rather anxious and worried about what should happen if the Irken was to wake up. He gently set Tenn down on the control room floor and traded her for the other unconscious Irken. He effortless slung the former captain of the hijacked ship over his shoulder and carried him down to the escape pods, loading him securely inside. It launched as soon as the computer confirmed that the pod was full. With that complete, Tak finally boarded the vessel with Mei in tow.

The seer and her protector made their way to the holding section of the ship to get a basic idea about the status of the prisoners. It was difficult, seeing as they either did not speak, were not capable of speech, babbled incoherently, or were constantly screaming. Most of them flinched at the new faces and Buir's shiny armor frightened some and excited others. He did not sense much danger and neither did Mei, but he reasoned that it was better to be safe.

There was really no visible way to discern the potentially threatening from the completely harmless without using Mei's ability to scan for anything that felt wrong. She refused to do any direct scanning of anyone's mind without their consent, and even though Skoodge argued that these people weren't exactly in the position to be giving any kind of informed consent, she stuck to her rule. She would need a few hours to rest; the perception shield had been quite draining.

Tak quickly deactivated all Irken monitoring equipment and installed a private communication line. She also made sure she had a one-way shadow channel broadcasting to Irk, so as to not alert them that they had deviated from course. Once she was absolutely certain that she had taken the necessary steps, she contacted the rest of the Resistance on Malterra.

"Mei is gonna do a scan of the prisoners; most of them are pretty whacked-out, according to Buir. Not violent, or anything, but… some pretty weird stuff. One of them keeps screaming about how he killed somebody over and over and it sounds pretty nasty, but Buir doesn't think he's much of a killer. Since none of them are really 'all there', if you know what I mean, we'll have Mei scan for anything out of the ordinary. This whole _place_ is pretty out of the ordinary if you ask _me_." Tak explained.

"I don't doubt it. Red and Purple will be on a transport first thing tomorrow. That should hopefully give you all time to get a bit more settled on the ship." The Captain replied. "Excellent work, all of you."

* * *

Cyanine began to stir and Phthalo tensed slightly when he realized he hadn't thought about this part. He had no idea how his co-leader would react to where he found himself. There were too many directions the response could go. He thought perhaps he could guide things along with the proper words but for the life of him, could not come up with anything to say. Was he supposed to pretend it never happened and not acknowledge it, or was he supposed to make a witty comment? Phthalo didn't do "witty" very well. Especially where Cyanine was concerned.

The green-eyed Irken yawned, looking much more rested and deeply relaxed. He reached an arm around the middle of his co-leader and pulled himself close as he settled, "You're comfy."

Phthalo laughed. "Thanks."

"Sorry I slept through the vid. I didn't mean to."

"No worries, you needed rest." Phthalo replied with a relaxed smile, unconsciously stroking the back of Cyanine's head. The other Irken made a soft almost purring sound. Phthalo chuckled slightly, "You like that, don't you?"

Cyanine nodded, "Mhmhmm. It's nice."

"Good." A satisfied smile graced his lips as he continued.

"I like this new side of you." Cyanine said.

"What do you mean by that?"

"When you're not afraid." A small laugh, "I like when you touch me."

Phthalo blushed, the reality of what he was actually doing finally hitting him like a brick wall. He paused a moment, and then smashed straight through it and proceeded trailing his fingertips down his co-leader's head.

Cyanine let out a sigh of relief.

"Something wrong?"

"I thought you were going to stop."

"It crossed my mind."

"Why didn't you?"

Phthalo shrugged, "I like it, I guess."

"I like it, too."

A mildly humorous thought occurred to the blue-eyed Irken, "It's kind of funny,"

"What, that only a few days ago we were hardly on speaking terms with each other?"

"Exactly. I feel like I've known you my whole life." He replied.

"You're the only person who understands the worst thing I've ever been through. Even if I don't say what's wrong, you know what I'm dealing with. If I tried to keep a secret from you, all I'd be doing is leaving out specifics. That was how I kept myself together until recently. Focusing on that connection."

"Connection through suffering." Phthalo mused.

Cyanine shyly slipped his hand into his co-leader's, lacing their fingers together, "Suffering isn't enough." He explained, "I mean, I want to share more that that with you."

He could never explain why he did it, but in retrospect, all that mattered was it happened. Phthalo sighed, slowly smoothing back his co-leader's antennas. Cyanine shuddered at the initial touch, antennas flattening automatically against his head as they twitched beneath Phthalo's hand. The green-eyed Irken clutched the other tightly as he held his breath, an unfamiliar but not entirely unpleasant sensation and a rush of heat shot though him. He was still shuddering when Phthalo realized what he'd done.

"…Shit, Cy, I'm sorry, I don't know what – why I – shit, you're shaking, a-are you ok?"

"You ramble when you're nervous." He managed, breathing a little quicker and shallower than normal with a smile, "It's kind of adorable."

"Does that mean you're ok?"

"I'm better than ok, Phthalo."

"I'm sorry about that, I just wasn't, didn't think,"

"I've told you before not to apologize for automatic bodily reflexes. I'm fine. It felt really good. In fact, I would not be opposed to doing it again."

Surprised, but curious (curiosity _always_ ended up getting the better of him), he experimentally ran his hand over the other's antennas, watching him shiver as he let out a small gasp that warmed Phthalo's blood.

"If we keep doing this, Cy,"

The green eyed Irken reoriented himself to straddle the other. "I don't wanna take things too far. I just want to do it for you." He said, brushing back his co-leader's antennas.

Phthalo wasn't sure what he expected it to feel like but he never could have anticipated it would feel like _that_. The nearly indescribable sensation made his stomach flip in the best way possible. His skin flushed and forgot for a brief second how to breathe.

"You ok, Phthalo?" Cynanine asked when the other finally opened his eyes.

"I-I'm very ok." He managed.

Cyanine smiled contentedly, resting his head in the crook of Phthalo's neck, collapsing against him. "Good."

With a degree of uncertainty and his usual awkwardness, the Irken with deep blue eyes wrapped his arms around the other. He breathed a relaxed sigh when Cyanine didn't ask him to let go, allowing the tension to leave his body.

"Hey, Cy?"

"Mm?"

"I'm happy."

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Lard Nar asked the two tall Irkens prepared to board the Stealth Cruiser.

"Aw, you're concerned." Red teased.

Purple rolled his eyes, "I don't think either of us find the idea particularly appealing, 'Nar. This is just something we have to do."

The Captain sighed, "Well, don't do anything stupid. Just because Mei can provide a perception shield doesn't mean you're invisible. If you startle someone or make your presence obvious, someone _will_ see you. Keep to yourselves and for Vort's sake, _don't split up_."

Purple smiled, "He really _is_ concerned."

Red nodded, "I know."

The Captain grumbled. "All right, get moving, you two. I want everyone back here alive and in one piece."

"Don't run from your feelings, 'Nar!" Red replied in a dramatic fashion.

Purple stifled a laugh and Lard Nar just shook his head.

"You're on a schedule, you know." The Vortian reminded.

"You ready for this?" He asked his partner.

"Won't know unless I try." Purple replied.

Red nodded and glanced toward Lard Nar, "See you when I see you, 'Captain."

Purple could tell that the Vortian was just as hesitant and nervous about sending them off as both he and Red were. Yes, he was prepared, but still terrified. Lard Nar just did an awful job of hiding it.

"Be careful." He urged in an anxious voice.

"Don't worry," Purple assured, "you can't get rid of us that easily."

They boarded the cruiser and checked that everything was in order and prepped for launch before lifting off and breaking orbit.

* * *

**Allusions & References**

The **protagonist from that Earth television show who neutralized an acid leak with chocolate** is _MacGyver_

When Purple says Red's trying to provoke him to **take you in a manly fashion,** it's a reference to _Firefly_

Kaff's conclusion that **there's no point in going mad in order to stop yourself from going mad. You might as well just give in and save your sanity for later** is from _The Hitchhiker's Guide to The Galaxy_ ( _So Long and Thanks for All the Fish, I think.)  
_

The idea of the **digital straight-jacket** came from those things in WALL-E. I just didn't know what to call them.

The nine planets Tenn conquered are all Thai dishes (or things found in Thai dishes), with the spelling altered a bit. Since Meekrob is a Thai food, I thought I'd keep with the theme.

Lard Nar explaining to Spleenk, **exactly why I keep listening to you** is a reference t _o_ the IZ episode, _Backseat Drivers from Beyond the Stars_

**"See you when I see you"** is a phrase often used in _Babylon 5_

 

* * *

**Notes**

The last part of **Phthalo's freakout** reads " _you can't want me, want this please don't want me, please just don't want me"_ when you ignore the parenthesis and read straight through. Skipping the words in parenthesis, it reads, " _you can't want this, don't please don't"_. If you read _only_ the words in parenthesis, it says, _"want me, please want me, just want me"_. This was completely intentional and took several hours to figure out. I wanted to really portray the level of confusion and inner conflict of the moment in a realistic way that was also interesting and required a bit of clever thinking. Also, I've been reading alot of poetry.

That **sonic-laser-tuner-thing** came from my guitar tuner.

**Lulu** means "warrior" or fighter of some sort. Which amused me to no end.

I've gone bleary-eyed writing this thing. 15 will be better, that's a promise. It's entirely action, from start to finish. Zim and Dib even get a mission of their own. Might be a bit of a wait, since my grad school stuff is due the first week of september and involves at least 25 pages of written work.

Once again, **I LOVE YOU GUYS**. Seriously, after I lost the first draft, I was ready to just give up and your comments and reviews and such were what made me get my ass back on Microsoft Word and finish this bitch. Until next chapter, I'll see you when I see you ;)


	15. Chapter 15

**\- 15 -**

By the time they reached the Void Ship, Mei had investigated the mental status of the prisoners onboard. The best that the majority of them could hope for, she explained, was to spend the rest of their lives in a trancelike, near vegetative state with the aid of a cocktail of antipsychotic drugs.

"Their brainwaves are severely altered." She said, "Problems even the Pak can't fix."

"Isn't the entire purpose of those things to fuck with our brains?" Tak asked with her arms crossed.

"Yes, and normally, the Pak could fix that, but emotional trauma, I'm afraid, is very different from structural or chemical abnormalities. I also detected a general electrical instability in the Paks."

"I think it's safe to say that they've all probably experienced a several non-repaired overloads." Purple said.

"My Pak overloaded. I'm not screaming like a maniac." Tenn replied.

"These people have had _massive_ overloads," Red replied, "to the point where their entire nervous system is damaged. You were lucky that your receptors didn't ignite anything."

"What about mechanical repairs? Anything fixable?" Purple asked.

"I do not know." Mei answered somberly, "Their minds are so erratic, even someone with as much practice as myself had a very difficult time maintaining a connection. I imagine that if they _can_ be rehabilitated, the process is going to be quite extensive."

Everyone seemed to avoid each other's eyes.

"Fine," Tax sighed, " _I'll_ be the cold-hearted bitch and say it so we can put this conversation behind us. We'll load up the ones in the best condition, the ones with the best odds of regaining a decent quality of life, and send them back to Malterra. You all know how suspicious it's going to look if we show up at the Void with an empty prisoner hold."

" _You are the coldest bitch in the world,"_ The seer heard echoing through her mind. That was something the prophetess didn't want to think about. She knew they needed the information Grel had. The Divine Mistress herself had said that he would become necessary, that Mei would not be able to avoid him and no matter whether she chose to believe in her dream or not, Mei would end up one day depending on the alien.

" _Why_ me _?"_ She had asked fiercely. The bitterness in her tone could not be mistaken.

" _Because it can be no one else."_

" _I do not care to entertain your whims,_ Divine One _,"_ she spat, _"any one of the others would beg for the task you've forced on me! Would it not make more sense to bestow your wishes on someone who will carry them out?"_

" _You do not yet understand it, Mei, but that is precisely why it_ must _be you."_

Mei laughed, but it was dry and somewhat manic, _"You're_ insane _!"_

" _Perhaps I am."_

" _I won't do it."_ She replied firmly, _"If this creature ever_ does _find me, I will not indulge him. I_ will not _be a part of this madness."_

" _We are_ all _part of this madness, my Dear. You may not want to be, but you cannot escape it."_

" _You really expect me to save the Universe?"_

" _Of course not. If we are to survive, we_ all _must give something of ourselves. In order to restore balance, sacrifices must be made. It may cost us our lives, our souls, or our sanity – perhaps all three."_

" _And what of the others?"_ Mei sneered, _"What will they be giving?_ How _will hiding in the vast, unexplored territory of space serve to protect the Universe?"_

She gave a small, enigmatic smile, _"Only Grel can tell you that."_

Infuriated, she sent a violent ripple of energy in the Divine Mistress's direction. Her effort was easily avoided as the elder waved her hand in a casual motion and the energy doubled back, sending a shockwave of pain and flashing light through Mei's mind, knocking her off her feet. The young prophetess staggered on her feet and immediately fell over, clutching and screaming at the agony pinching her skull until she began to retch.

Taking pity on her, the Divine Mistress took a moment to manipulate the energy around them and Mei's body felt normal again. If she'd been bitter beforehand, there was no question regarding her sentiments afterward.

She'd stuck to her word and she had turned Grel away as soon as he mentioned that the Divine Mistress had sent him. She wasn't sure _what_ she assumed would happen, but hours later, when she felt a sensation she could only liken to a lightning strike that turned her spine to ice did she begin to reconsider the Divine Mistress's words.

She wasn't sure how she was going to deal with coming face-to-face with the person she'd refused so many years ago, left to suffer in agony all this time. If anyone found out about her actions (or lack thereof), to say she'd be shunned would put it mildly.

Skooge broke her thoughts with a heavy sigh, "She's right." He said, commenting on Tak's observation, "the plan is risky enough as it is. We can't afford to put ourselves in any more jeopardy that we already are."

Nobody looked happy, but they all acknowledged that it was the right thing to do.

Red nodded. "All right."

Purple frowned; he knew Red was just as torn as he was over it. Moments like this hurt the most. When the collateral damage had a face and an identity and a history. When they were real people, in real pain. Nobody really knew the extent of what went on in the Shrieking Void, (with the exception of poor Pethra, who wasn't the best example of sound mind) but from Pethra's condition alone, they knew it was not good. The last thing these people needed was pain, but there was nothing that could be done about it. Perhaps later, if they survived the fight, they could start tending to the prisoners in a proper way. It was a flimsy hope at best, but it was _something_ to hold on to, and Purple grasped at it as best he could.

"Before we ship anyone off to Malterra, we need to make sure everyone is on the same page. We got very, _very_ lucky with securing the ship. We're not infiltrating some maximum-security lockup," Red reminded, "this is _the_ maximum-security lockup. No 'Ker-Splodey systems or missile towers, no off-duty guards or low alert. Everyone is on guard, all the time. This place has a life of it's own. It doesn't sleep. This is the closest to _Their_ territory we've ever been. If we want to get a look at what's really going on, it's now or never. Our primary objective is to locate any labs, tech, or research facilities. Anomolies. Anything that doesn't fit."

"This is where having Mei along comes in." Skooge explained, "She'll maintain the perception shield, but keep her mind open for anything out of the ordinary she might pick up on."

"That goes for everyone else. If you think that something is off, _say something_." Red added. "We can't afford to have to double-back on our steps because we wasted time."

"The perception shield," Tenn started, "will it be able to fool the security systems?"

Mei sighed, "It is a little… what is the word… 'tricky' to explain. The shield works by projecting whatever image the person wants to see. Whatever it expects to be looking at, it sees. With that in mind," she said, "it will easily fool the security staff who monitor the cameras inside the facility. However, if they were to go back and watch the footage, we would simply be invisible. This only presents a problem when opening secure doors and such."

"So you can't breach the security." Tak did not ask so much as make a statement of fact.

"Since Red and I were going to swipe some extra uniforms off this ship anyway, we should easily be able to talk a janitor into giving us his keycard. And if we can't, we'll just pickpocket it." Purple said offhandedly.

Red gave him a perplexed glance, "Why a janitor?"

"They go everywhere." He replied with a simple shrug, "And I doubt we'll come across anyone with the kind of clearance we're going to need."

"I love your brains."

Purple gave his partner a playful grin, "Necrophiliac."

Skooge visibly twitched and Tak gave a small grimace. Tenn just looked at both their reactions and shrugged, fairly used to these sorts of things by now.

"I think we'll need more than keycards to get around this place. There will probably be bioscan checkpoints, retinal scans, or even DNA verification. Let's hope they don't require a blood sample." Red reminded. "I've got the biometric override we used on Vort, but I think these systems might be more complicated – and I don't want to risk setting them off."

"I think I can make the override work. Not the blood samples, though - I haven't figured out how to fake those yet. I mean, I probably _could_. If I had time, a lab, and maybe those crunchy cheese-flavored snacks from that horrible planet Earth. Rather delicious, actually. One of its few charms." Tak mused.

"Explain."

"They were weird, squiggly-shaped crunchy corn snacks covered in this orange, cheese-flavored powder,"

"About tricking the bioscan and all that." Skooge replied.

"Though I wouldn't mind hearing more about the snacks," Purple commented, "they sound delicious."

Red just sighed and shook his head with hopeless look on his face.

"Oh, are you really gonna stand there and pretend like it's not making _you_ hungry, too?" Purple retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"…Maybe a little."

With a satisfied expression, Purple turned his attention to Tak, "You were saying?"

"Before I make any promises, I need to know how your tech works."

"It's not too complicated." Red explained, "It reads the thermal imaging of the last handprint and creates the same digital signature. Once plugged in properly, it tricks the system into thinking any hand is the authorized one."

Tak thought for a moment. "If we can program a SmartChip with elastic parameters set to 'mimic', it'd be pretty hard to screw up." She said, "Since we're flying blind here in terms of what we're dealing with, broad is our best bet."

"Good point." Red replied, "It's the best we can hope for under the circumstances. It's not like we can do a recon operation so we can make specific preparations before we go in." He sighed heavily with a painful grimace.

"You okay?" Tenn asked as Purple looked at his partner with a worried expression. Mei felt pain shooting through her entire form as she shuddered violently. There was burning and blunt force, and it took all she had to keep quiet as her hands trembled and erupted in furious agony. The episode lasted less than a second.

Red gave Purple a weary glance, "…I think I need to lay down."

Purple just nodded and offered a reassuring "Okay" as he squeezed his hand lightly. "We're gonna get a bit of rest, if that's all right. We'll meet up again in an hour or two to start preparing. We're still about four hours out, right?"

Skooge nodded.

"Our COMs are on. We won't be in the middle of anything but sleep or conversation, so don't get awkward about calling. We _cannot_ screw this up." When Purple spoke in a serious tone, it was always unexpected. "Are we good?"

Exchanging glances all around, everyone seemed to be nodding or muttering come kind of affirmation.

"Good. We'll see you later, then."

They had swapped out the clothes they'd thrown together on Malterra for guard uniforms from the ship's storage. Though the legs and sleeves fell a little short, the boots and gloves easily camouflaged the problem.

The awkwardness was palpable in the small room that had once served as a guard's quarters. Purple watched as Red stared at his hands, seated on the military-style cot in the corner of the room. He looked so small, Purple thought. Wringing his hands together with an awkward, lost, and desperate expression on his face. The vulnerability surrounding his mate was of an unusual sort. The red-eyed Irken gave the impression that he wanted to speak, but didn't know how.

Purple was all right with that, though. He took a seat beside his partner and listened to him sigh heavily. The violet-eyed Irken simply took hold of Red's hand and couldn't help but feel the amount of tension in it. Purple found this somewhat odd, seeing as Red was actually slouching, half huddling into himself and relatively boneless in terms of his posture, and yet his hands were tense. Tension turned to trembling very quickly. Purple briefly studied their hands and noted how weak his partner's grip had become. Understanding washed over him.

"Siranah." It wasn't a question.

Red just nodded quietly.

Purple's heart ached. "I'm sorry."

"You saved me. You've got nothing to be sorry for."

"Yeah, but it still hurts me to see you in pain. And don't you _dare_ apologize for being in pain to start with."

Red closed his mouth and remained quiet.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I just want you to know I'll listen. I like when you tell me things."

"Not _those_ things."

" _Especially_ those things."

"Why?"

"It makes me feel special."

The complete sincerity in Purple's voice made Red turn to see the sentiment echoed on his face as well. "…What? How's that?"

Purple shrugged, "It's hard to explain. Makes me feel connected to you."

"We do a fair amount of _connecting_ on a regular basis."

"If you don't wanna talk, Red, you don't have to, just don't try to brush it off with a defense mechanism. At least be honest. I think I've earned that."

Red nodded, "You're right. I guess I just don't want to think about it. Saying the words out loud… you know how it is."

"You can't keep thinking that you'll be able to protect yourself by pretending it never happened. You have memories running wild in your head without tags and your mind can't sort them if they haven't got labels. There's no way to keep them in check. It wants to organize and catalog those things so each one can be put to rest where it belongs. It sucks, and I wish there was an easier way but, if you don't want this to eat at you for the rest of your life, you're gonna have to deal with it. I'm not saying it has to be now, or even with me at all. If you're more comfortable with a doctor, we'll get you one when you're ready and I won't be offended. The only reason I'm bringing it up is because it seems to be on your mind a lot lately. I don't like when you're distracted. Don't reply with a witty innuendo."

"I just… I feel like, I don't know… in my head, it feels like it all happened so fast. Everything's just this huge blur and all I remember clearly is when you showed up, but I get these… sometimes, I remember other things for no reason. The memories feel like a dream but I know they're mine. I can _feel_ it, you know?"

Purple nodded, his face sympathetic and urging Red to continue.

After a deep breath, he tightened his grip on Purple's hand, "After everything we've been through, the Sirani were nothing… but something about it still terrifies me in such a different way."

"You were a POW, Red. What happened to us was terrible, but at the end of it, we had each other – even when we both lost it completely. This… you couldn't know I would come for you, or that I'd even be able to reach you if I tried. It's not weird. I'd be kinda worried if you _weren't_ still upset by it."

"Guess that's true." He answered, "When the system tripped, I had no choice but to set off the mines. You know I called for air support, but the storage room I'd come in through was blocked off by the blast. I didn't know what else to do, so I ran. Found that office, barricaded myself and waited. Put up a decent fight, but once they got in and I ran out of cartridges, the lead-pipe to the head knocked me out cold." He sighed, "Gave me a shovel every day and made me dig what was supposedto be my grave. Spit on me. Threw things at me. Pretty humiliating. Tore out my Pak legs and threw me in one of their cells – the ones they were famous for."

Very much like psychiatric isolation chambers, the Sirani had been notorious for building them into the ground rather than a wall. Each "cell" was roughly eight-feet-deep and lined with steel, sealed by a hatch door that opened only from the outside. This allowed for the prisoner to be contained without restraints; a demoralizing fact that literally hung over a captive's head, taunting them. Though they still possessed the ability to fight back, they were absolutely powerless and entirely dependent on the Sirani to survive. Always kept in the dark, the claustrophobia and anxiety added to the delirium from the physical torture did an excellent job of driving their victims mad.

"Sometimes they'd open the hatch door just to remind me that I was going to die. The electroshock was awful, but I don't have to tell you what that feels like. You probably know better than me. They thought it was pretty hilarious when my Pak reactivated me, so they enjoyed that until it got boring. Sliced the soles of my feet open and made me walk back and forth on the filthy, splintered floor. So many fucking _nails_ … the cuts would snag and rip and then they poured water on the floor. Afterward, I couldn't walk, but..." he choked, trying to breathe, "I didn't want to _crawl_ , you know?"

It broke Purple's heart to imagine his mate in such a way. "You did what you had to, Love." He replied, wrapping his arm around the Irken's shoulders and pulling him close, making sure his free hand took Red's.

"Doesn't make it any less humiliating. More laughing, spitting, hitting, digging. All that got old, and they started to get pissed when they hadn't broken me yet. That was when they went for my hands. Broke my fingers, one every couple of hours. Didn't want to do them all at once, since the brain can only process the body's most intense injury, they wanted to make sure it lasted longer, that I felt all of it. After that came the mallet to my hands. I really didn't like it." He cringed, "I started crying then." Nuzzling into Purple's chest, "Didn't care if they were laughing any more. My fingers…" he stammered nervously as he tried to collect his thoughts.

"…Oh, Sweetheart… I'm so sorry…" There was a tinge of horror in Purple's meek voice. It was a long time since he'd felt such anger toward something, but in that moment of revelation, the violet-eyed former Tallest would have torn the planet apart all over again.

"Fucking rusted handsaw." He choked, crying now, "Hours. They sat around, taking turns, drinking, making bets on how many passes it would take to cut off. Fifty-seven. That was the first joint. They cut at the next one, and then again at the knuckle. At some point I just started laughing. The only thing that kept me alive was you. Every time I almost gave up, I held out because I knew you'd come.

I hallucinated you a lot, but in a weird way, it helped. Forced me to remember why I was still alive, why I needed to stay alive."

He pressed his lips chastely against Red's temple, squeezing his eyes shut and suppressing the painful twist in his chest that ached to be released through tears. He would cry for Red later. Right now, Red needed this. If Purple cried with him, his mate would only feel guilty and ashamed, as if the pain motivating Purple's tears was a direct result of his actions. He'd tell himself he deserved all the things he had endured, and he'd start to believe it because once Red got an idea like that stuck in an old wound, he'd sew it shut on his own and ignore the infection growing under the sutured skin until the seams ruptured. This had done enough damage on its own, but Red was finally cleaning out the damage and allowing Purple an opportunity to be the salve on stinging antiseptic.

He would tell Red how he felt, and he would cry for what had been done to his mate. Red would likely cry, too, and they would hold each other until it passed through them and they would look at each other with eyes that saw how much stronger it made them in the present tense – and they would be unable to do anything but smile.

Now, however, was not that time. It might not be for a long while, depending on how the mission in the Void went, but it would come. This would someday be mostly all right.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Baby. I'm so sorry. It's not enough, I know; at times like this, words can't ever be enough, but I swear, no matter what, I will _always_ find you. I will _never_ leave you behind."

"Guess I've been playing the heroine all along." He gave a small almost-smile.

"You saved me, too, Sweetheart. In so many ways."

"Good. Need to make sure I'm pulling my weight in this relationship."

Purple let out a short laugh, "I'll be sure to start complaining if you don't."

"I love you so fucking much."

Tightening his grip on Red's hand, "Me too."

"How do you feel?" Purple asked after several long moments of silence passed.

"Weird." Red replied, "This is going to sound strange, but you know that feeling after you throw up when you're sick? Kinda like you're a bit wobbly and your body kinda hurts and all this nasty shit that's been killing you is gone and your stomach is finally settled?"

"Yeah."

"Feels kinda like that, without the bad taste."

"Good." Purple replied, tilting Red's chin so he could press his mouth gently to Red's. Slow and light, it was the simple touching of lips until the violet-eyed Irken ran his tongue along the seam of his mate's lips. Red instantly parted them, allowing the other to deepen the kiss, meeting Purple's tongue in his mouth with a loving brush from his own. He wanted nothing more that to get carried away and lose all control, to kiss every inch of Red's body in all it's flawed perfection and show just how grateful he was for the other Irken's existence – but he didn't have the proper time.

Instead, he settled for a soft caress and a warm smile. They laid down and shared an embrace, holding on to the peace of the moment.

"Get some rest." Purple said, lightly kissing his mate's forehead, "The faster we get through this, the faster I can bring you back here and have my way with you."

Red laughed. "Now _there's_ an incentive. Keep bribing me like that and I'll start doing laundry."

"Is that before or after you take up decoupage?"

"Somewhere around the time I start sending out greeting cards."

"Gotcha." Purple nodded with a laugh. He tightened his hold on Red's waist, "You know, I'm gonna have to get creative now that you're going to start wearing _pants_ , if I want to keep doing unspeakably inappropriate things to you at dinner parties." He said, in response to the guard uniforms they currently sported.

"Woe is _you_." Red snorted, "You're wearing them, too."

"Oh, don't pretend like you _haven't_ been looking at my ass since I put them on."

The other Irken laughed, "Damn right, I have."

"Well, we're through with the armor, so I guess you'll just have to live with it."

"You're gonna do everything in your power to flaunt it, aren't you?"

Purple gave a devious grin.

"You are _such_ a tease." Red grumbled.

"Are we playing State-the-Obvious, 'cause I think that's pretty much a given."

"Have you no mercy at all?"

Purple grinned wickedly, "Not unless you beg."

"This conversation is heading in a direction that can only end in frustration, seeing as we're definitely on a deadline this time."

"Pity, that."

"A crying shame."

"I'd have screwed your brains out."

Red grumbled.

"I suppose that just means I'll have to do it twice."

"I like the way you think, Gorgeous."

"Aren't you a charmer?"

"Oh, I don't like to brag."

Purple laughed, "No, you _love_ it."

"No. I love _you_." Red replied, briefly kissing Purple's lips with a smile.

Purple kissed his forehead, feeling much more relaxed, "I love you, too."

* * *

The Captain had been relieved when he'd gotten word that Red and Purple had safely boarded the Void Ship. Unfortunately, without that to worry over, he now had to face the big, giant one he'd been trying to avoid, which was his concern for actual mission itself. He wondered if he'd been wrong to let them go. It was either genius or suicide. Strange, how the border between the two was always a fine line.

Shloonktapooxis's voice rather gracelessly yanked him from his thoughts, which he could not say he was ungrateful for.

"They found that doctor we were lookin' for on Tauron, Sir. He's with Lulu. She's on the line waitin' for ya."

Immediately, Lard Nar turned to the VidCOM and answered the call. "Tell me something good, Lu."

"I got your doctor safe and sound. Your boy almost got himself picked up by a prostitute."

"… _What_?"

Some unintelligible muttering was heard in the background and Lulu failed to stifle a laugh. "Sorry, Sunbeam, you ain't livin' it down." She said before turning her focus back to the Captain. "I've briefed him on the situation and he's agreed to help. I don't know how you wanna do this, but we gotta move him fast. It's a matter of time before the Empire tracks him."

Lard Nar frowned. "We need to make absolutely _sure_ this goes smoothly."

"Smoothly?" She snorted, "I don't care if it blows us half to hell, so long as our people are safe and we accomplish the objective. Who cares if you make a mess, so long as the job gets done and you ain't got to clean it up?"

He sighed, "There are so many things wrong with that approach."

"Spray and pray never let me down."

"I don't plan on any shooting taking place."

"No offense, Captain, but what you plan and what takes place ain't ever exactly been similar."

Lard Nar sighed, "Fine. But no grenades this time."

"No worries. I prefer fully automatic. You know that."

"Yeah, but not all of us are batshit enough to run directly _into_ oncoming danger."

"What can I say, I'm a traditionalist."

The Captain had to laugh, "If that's what you wanna call it, then by all means, go ahead. How the hell are you, anyway?"

"Good. Everything's goin' well. Just organized a new division to run background checks on new recruits."

"I was wondering more along the lines of how _you_ are, but I'm glad the base is running smooth. You think you've got anyone who could step in and run things for you for a short time?"

She gave him a confused half-glare, "Why?"

"I want you to escort Kaff to Malterra. There's a doctor here,"

"Oh, for the love of the Almighty Universe, I should've seen this coming. Forget it 'Nar."

"You should really see what he can do,"

"Stop tryin' to make up for somethin' that wasn't your fault!" She replied angrily, "I'm _fine_!"

"I'm not trying to make up for anything, Lu." He answered calmly, "Just trying to help a friend out."

"I don't want pity. There ain't nothin' wrong with me."

"I never said there was. I just wanted you to _talk_ to the guy. I don't even know if he can help with your condition, but I thought it would be stupid not to offer."

"What makes this quack you got so great?" She asked, trying to hide her curiosity.

"He just successfully attached fully-functional, cybergenic fingers. Re-grew tendons and nerve endings and with some kinda flesh-graft, the damn things even _bleed_. Unbelievably short recovery. This guy is incredible. Like I said, I don't know if he can help you, but you should see the conditions he fixed. Don't be stubborn, there's no harm in a consultation."

She looked conflicted and frustrated. Kaff was terrible at reading people, but it made something in him hurt to see her like that.

"Fine. I'll come, but only 'cause that one shouldn't be left unsupervised." She said, pointing at Kaff.

The Irken would have been offended, but she looked so sad he was willing to shoulder the misdirected anger. Also, she was probably right. Trouble had a certain affection for the pink-eyed Irken he never could quite understand.

The Captain looked relieved. "I've got an idea about how to pick you up… I'll call you with details once I've worked it out."

"Later, then?"

"Later."

"Shloonktapooxis," Lard Nard called.

"Yessir!"

"Get me Zim and Dib."

"On it, Sir!" He replied cheerfully.

To no one in particular, "Here goes everything," he said.

* * *

While curiosity always got the better of him, the Irken got the distinct impression that he shouldn't bring anything up. It was a bad idea and it was best to, as they would say on Earth, let sleeping dogs lie.

"What _condition_ was he talking about?"

Open mouth, insert foot.

"I'm sorry for asking, but I mean, I'm a doctor, too, and I might be able to help with something – or help the other doctor help with something, or I could just be totally useless please don't kill me."

Her glare eased after a few moments. "You done patchin' my people up yet?"

Kaff nodded obediently, "Everybody's taken care of."

"I suppose you probably wanna rest a while. Long day for you, eh?"

"Is _every_ day like this for you people?"

She laughed, "No. Just fast-paced. You get the hang of it eventually. Well, maybe not _you_ , specifically. We'll have to wait and see."

She showed him to a small, temporary living space, which he was more than satisfied with. Exhausted, he rinsed his face off and toweled it dry. Kaff stared at his reflection and stood shocked for a brief moment. His face then flooded with embarrassment, and he bolted out the door after Lulu.

"Whoa, slow down! Where's the fire, Sunbeam?"

"…Fire? There's a fire?"

Lulu rolled her eyes helplessly, "It's an expression."

"Oh. Right. Sorry. Not really familiar with colloquialisms…"

She crossed her arms, "So, what's got you chasin' after me like you got the Empire right behind you?"

Oh. Right, he'd chased her down for a reason. His face filled with heat, despite his furious attempts to suppress it, "You bit me!"

She blinked a few times before remembering earlier, in the alley. "Yeah. So?"

" _So_ , my entire lip is bruised!"

"Oh, quit whining, Princess. It'll fade."

"I've got _teeth marks_ , woman!"

She burst out laughing.

"It's _not funny_ , Lulu."

She studied the work she'd done to the Irken's bottom lip and grinned. "That's the most action you've seen your whole _life_ , Sunbeam."

He flushed even greener, "What does that matter?"

"I bet that was your first kiss, wasn't it?" She teased.

He mumbled angrily under his breath.

She clapped her hands together, "Aw, that's so cute! Did you like it?"

"…Did I like what? You were gnawing my face off!"

"You're _blushing_. I need a capture for this."

He scowled, "It's _not_ funny!"

"So you keep sayin', and yet," She laughed, "I can't stop laughin'!"

"I think you broke the skin, Lu! It _hurt_."

"Oh, shut up and live a little. Ain't like you're gettin' it anywhere else."

"I don't want _it_ at all!"

She snickered, "You don't even know what _it_ is, Sunbeam."

Kaff looked very much like an eight-year-old digging his heels into the ground. "Well I know _this_ ," he said, indicating the impressive bite on his lip, "isn't something I want!"

She grinned, "Sure felt like you did back in the alley. I mean, you're 'bout as skilled at kissin' as you are street-smart, but you were tryin'."

He stammered and struggled for words for a while, and Lulu tried not to laugh, "…What _else_ was I supposed to do?" He asked incredulously, "I tried to run away but you tried to bite my lip off!"

"Couldn't risk you gettin' us caught."

He pouted, "Yeah, but did you have to bite so _hard_?"

She chuckled, "Wouldn't've hurt so bad if you hadn't gone and yanked away while I had it between my teeth. Really, you got _any_ common sense _at all_?"

"Well _excuse me_ , I was being chased by the Irken Empire, solicited by a prostitute, and thrown angrily against a wall and threatened by a terrifying woman I'd never seen in my life, and then shoved into _another wall_ while said strange woman proceeded to shove her tongue in my mouth! I was a _little bit_ distracted!"

"No need to get defensive, Sunbeam." She smirked. "But just 'cause I ain't got a fancy degree don't mean I didn't notice _your_ tonguein _my_ mouth. Or'd you forget that part?"

He fumed in silent frustration and embarrassment.

"It ain't nothin' you ought to be embarrassed over."

"Do you get some enjoyment out of making me want to yank my antennae out of my head?"

"Sure do!"

"Evil, evil woman…"

A beat of silence passed between them before Lulu laughed hard.

"What?" He grunted.

"…I'm sorry, but your lip really _is_ awful!"

"It's _your_ fault!"

"What do you want me to do? Apologize?" She laughed, "Ain't gonna make your lip any better."

"No, but it'll make _me_ feel better."

"Poor baby." She rolled her eyes, "All right, Sunbeam, I'm sorry I bruised your lip."

"Could you _not_ call me that?"

"Call you what? 'Sunbeam'?"

He nodded.

"Nah. That's stayin'."

"Why?" He whined.

"It suits you." She laughed again at his lip. It was, indeed, the absolute worst she'd ever seen, and only getting darker.

He gave her a cross stare, "I'm _not_ happy, Lulu!"

"You're just cranky 'cause you're tired. Get some sleep like I told you and I'll let you know when I've worked out the details with the Captain, all right?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever…" he grumbled.

"Cheer up a little, Sunbeam," she said, "if it makes you feel better, your kissin' might need work, but your tongue ain't half bad. At least you've got good equipment to work with."

Kaff looked like he might have a heart attack and Lulu chuckled to herself as she pivoted and continued down the hall.

* * *

"Are you, um, doing anything later?" the green-eyed Tallest began in a cautious whisper, in between sips of soda as he and his co-leader idled aimlessly on the flight deck, gazing out the huge window.

"Oh yeah, Cy, my social calendar is _overflowing_." He said sarcastically.

"Well, I, uh… I had a really good time with you last night and I thought maybe we could do it again, or something."

Phthalo couldn't help but smile, blushing furiously at his inability to contain the spread of heat across his face, "That'd be nice… I'd like that."

Cyanine slackened with relief. "Okay. Food and vids still a good plan, or do you want to do something else?"

Phthalo's head had started doing this strange _buzzing_ thing whenever he was around Cyanine at times like this. It made it hard to think, but he couldn't say it was entirely unpleasant. "Yeah, no, I mean, that works. I'm good with that."

Cyanine smiled as he trained his eyes back to the window, "Finally. _Something_ worth looking forward to." He sighed.

Phthalo wasn't sure if he was supposed to hear his co-Tallest's last statement but he blushed anyway, internally damning himself for it, and suppressed the overwhelming urge to hold Cyanine's hand.

"Hey, Cy," he said in a low voice, keeping the conversation as discreet as possible, "I wish I could hold your hand right now."

Cyanine looked at him with a melancholy smile, "I do, too."

They forced themselves away from each other's eyes and focused again on the empty void outside. Phthalo felt as if something inside him snapped the moment he had to break eye contact. His insides screamed for him to close the space between them. Every instinct shouted at the top of its lungs in agreement. His body _ached,_ in a strange way, for it.

The smile on Cyanine's face had disappeared, leaving only the melancholy in its place. A ripple of something that was like sympathy, yet something else at the same time washed over him. He watched Cyanine clench and unclench his fists as if it were a pathetic, subconscious attempt to hold on to something and felt sadness twisting painfully inside him. He'd finally found something to hold on to, but now he knew that he could never _really_ hold it completely.

What they had, whatever they'd begun, they didn't own. They could have it when they were alone, but it would never exist outside each other. It was a screwed up sort-of half-life, but Phthalo knew it was better than nothing and more than he could ask for. They had "worked" together long enough to be comfortable around each other, long enough for Cyanine to decide that whatever he wanted, it was more than a surface friendship, like he'd insisted when they'd first met. The Irken had changed considerably since that time. Phthalo had changed as well, and he supposed that once one was stripped of any remote sense of pride, it was inevitable that their outlook would change.

Whatever. Thinking made his head hurt. Looking at Cyanine made his heart hurt. He sighed heavily and wondered if every day would be like this.

* * *

The COM unit alerted them with a very persistent noise that instantly stirred them from sleep. They wouldn't deny the anxiety they felt, but they understood what had to be done. They'd come too far to turn around. If the Void ship deviated at all from it's course, Irk would instantly be alerted and the Resistance couldn't afford that kind of attention. They needed the Empire to regard them as a nuisance. They'd have their time eventually, but they weren't strong enough yet.

Red tried to ignore something Mei had said, about intersections and fixed points and immediately frowned. He loathed saying she made sense, but their situation at the moment was a perfect metaphor. Neither of them had to be here, but once they stepped foot on the ship, there was no way to back out. He and Purple couldn't avoid it now.

Purple remained oblivious to his partner's irritation, grabbing his COM-link and answering. "What's our status?"

"We're about to enter the Void. It'll be another hour or so before we reach the prison, though. Mei says she's been getting weird vibes for a while now. Nothing bad, just something about the energy of Void Space." Tenn explained.

"All right. Thanks Tenn, we'll be with you shortly." Purple disconnected the conversation and evaluated his somewhat frustrated-looking partner. Purple draped his arms around Red's neck in a boneless embrace and a somewhat loopy grin consuming his face.

"What?" Red asked, raising a non-existent eyebrow in confusion.

"You're so cute when you're all grumpy."

Red rolled his eyes, clearly not as amused as his partner this time around.

Purple released the red-eyed Irken, who folded his arms with a frown. "What's happened to you in the last three minutes?"

"Just thinking about something Mei said. It's probably coincidence, but still, it bothers me."

Purple nodded, "About how we're stuck on this mission whether we like it or not, and whatever happens, for better or worse, was because we chose this particular path?"

Red blinked, "… _Exactly_."

"It's crossed my mind as well." Purple replied, "She's helped us this far. Whatever her agenda is, I don't feel like she's out to hurt us. Plus, we kinda need her for this to work."

"That's what makes me nervous."

Purple sighed, "I know. At this point, though, it couldn't hurt."

"It could hurt a _whole lot_ , Pur."

"And going into that prison _without_ her, or the perception shield?" Purple replied, "At least, this way, we've got a 50/50 chance. I'm not one for math, but even I understand that's significantly more than having none at all."

Red's brow furrowed, "Stop making sense."

"Come on, Sweetheart. It's about time we went toe-to-toe with these motherfuckers."

The look on his mate's face made Red feel much more confident about things. "Yeah. I think you're right."

"Entering Void Space in five, four, three, two, one…" Just as Tak finished the countdown, Mei felt her head spin as it flooded with noise. She lost her balance and stumbled, trying to steady herself and regain control. Slowly, she managed to re-establish equilibrium and the roaring din in her mind began to slip away.

"Are you all right, Mei?"

Shaking her head in affirmation, she opened her eyes only to slam them closed a second later. She hissed sharply at the unpleasant sensation. "It's so _bright_ …"

"What's bright?" Skooge asked, somewhat worried.

She held her head in her hands as it began to throb, " _Everything_." She answered.

"… Buir, is she okay?" Tak asked rather nervously.

"I will be fine," she said, "I just need,"

' _What the hell?'_

' _Mei?'_

' _Well this can't be good'_

' _Oh great, of course she'd have a fit_ now _, of all times'_

' _Shit, is she okay?'_

' _Don't you_ dare _fucking pull this shit – not_ here _, not_ now _, this is not happening, I should have known, we're so fucked,'_

' _This is just our luck, I have no idea what I'm going to tell him – or anyone else for that matter,'_

No one's mouth was moving, in spite of the voices running through her head. Was that what they were all thinking? Why couldn't she block it out? It had never been –

Suddenly, she felt her stomach drop as she was overwhelmed with disorient and like a fist to the stomach, the flood of emotions than ran through her in a single second were enough to stop her breathing.

She was on a ship, but not the Void ship. It had to be a long-distance cruiser… the intergalactic equivalent of a mobile home.

" _Just kiss me again. One more time."_

Lips pressed together. A long pause.

Something wasn't right. Eyelids felt heavy. The grip on the gun slacked. A futile attempt to frantically grasp the thread of consciousness as it unraveled faster and faster. Everything was blurry.

" _I'm so sorry. She said I had to do this if I wanted to save us both. This isn't the end. I'll be okay. Remember what you promised. I love you."_

"Mei?"

Shaking herself awake, she breathed deeply and made a concentrated effort to find balance. Thoughts were still leaking into her mind and to keep them out, she found that she needed to make more of an effort.

So _that_ was the problem. She supposed she should have expected it.

"I am fine, I just need a moment… I did not anticipate that the Void would amplify my abilities, let alone to such an extent. If I heard any of your thoughts, I apologize."

"Is she – are you still gonna be able to keep the perception shield?" Skooge asked.

"Yes. In fact, it should be much less effort now, actually. I should have known the energy here would be different."

"Ah, that collapsed-wormhole-energy-generating-and-absorbing blob thing." Tenn mused.

"Something like that, yes."

"If you've got any impending mental breakdowns, I strongly recommend having them now or waiting until the mission's over." Red announced.

"As soon as we're close enough to the prison, Mei will start listening in. Since it's our only lead, she's going to try and locate Grel – if he exists. If not… we're hoping she can glean an idea of where we ought to start looking for information."

"Nobody splits up for _any_ reason. This is a _recon operation_ , nothing else. If we pull this off, we'll _finally_ have a leg up on _Them_. This is what's going to decide whether or not we stand a chance."

"All right, Mei," Skooge said, "tell us when you've got something."

* * *

He tried knocking, but she hadn't answered. He was exhausted, and he'd managed to fall into a shallow sleep for a little while, but the nightmares were worse than his exhaustion. Sleep was out of the question and everyone who needed medical care had already been seen to. He didn't feel like socializing. He'd never been very good at it, and with this monstrosity of a bruise on his lip, it wouldn't be a huge leap for someone to assume he had some sort of plague.

Despite having been the one who gave him the bruise that made him look like a plague-carrier, Lulu was the only person on this base he knew at all – and he barely knew her. Yes, she'd _already_ figured out which buttons to push to frustrate him and delighted in doing so, however, his thoughts were much more unpleasant company than Lulu's frustrating antics.

He tried the door, surprised when it opened. He found her sitting at her desk, "Hey, Lulu… is uh, is it okay if I come in?"

"Hm? Yeah, sure, whatever. Just don't bother me, I gotta make sure I leave the emergency protocols organized for my second-in-command."

He nodded and sat quietly, not wanting to disturb her. He watched her for a few moments, having somewhere in his mind noticed that something was off. It wasn't very pronounced, but the angle at which she held her arm was a bit off. Slightly too wide, as if compensating for something. The tension in her shoulder was obvious, considering there was hardly _any_ tension in her right side at all. Something wasn't right.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot. Don't mean I'm gonna answer it."

"Sheesh, I just wanted to ask if your shoulder was feeling okay."

Kaff _almost_ missed the moment of paralysis between fight and flight, "What's it look like?"

"Nothing, just… you don't look, I mean, you're not right-handed."

"The hell I'm not."

"Well, not naturally. You hold your arm at too wide an angle. Your shoulder's too tense. Wrist is bent too much. You grip the pen in the wrong place, like you need leverage to compensate for strength."

"Congratulations, I said you were a clever one."

"Why do you write with your non-dominant hand?" He asked, "It doesn't look very comfortable. I mean, it doesn't look like you're ambidextrous."

"You're the dumbest smart person I ever met."

Frustrated, "Well, how am I supposed to know? The only thing I can think of is you're just stubborn. The only other reason to do it would be because you _can't_ , and I'm pretty sure you don't have an organiprosthetic limb, so it's not like,"

"Get out."

"…What?"

Her eyes were dark and angry, a deep frightening blue like the ocean under heavy, gray clouds moments before a storm breaks. The air between them hung thick and charged, just begging for lightning to strike.

"I didn't want to upset you, I don't know what I said, I just,"

"Go!" She shouted, flushed and full of white, blinding fury; it made Kaff wince.

He started toward the door, hanging his head. A hand on the access panel, Kaff let out an almost desperate sigh. "…Please don't make me leave. I won't say anything, you won't even know I'm here, I promise,"

She moved _fast_. Kaff didn't even see her progress until she had his shirt in her fists, shoving him _hard_ into the wall. She seemed to do that to him quite a bit. "I told you to leave." She managed, slow, through clenched teeth, "I may have to bring you to the Captain, but he wasn't exactly specific on what state you gotta be in. One more sound outta you that ain't you leavin' this room, and I'll knock you out." He saw in her eyes that she was serious.

"Hit me, then."

She did.

Her fist met his face in a powerful collision and without her support, Kaff collapsed. She stood quietly for a moment as the anger seeped out of her, the rage in her fists turning to tremors. She barely had the sense to lock her door before she fell to her knees and sobbed quietly.

When he woke up, the first thing Kaff was aware of was a _spectacular_ headache. He tried to sit up and failed.

"Lay down. Take these." Lulu shoved painkillers into his hand and a soda into the other.

"Thank you." He said, after swallowing the pills.

"Why? I knocked you out for an hour."

"You needed it, it's okay."

"You got a concussion, there, Sunbeam?"

"No, no… I'm okay. Just the headache. You were upset. Needed to get it out. Things get… scary when I'm alone with myself. It hurts a lot."

"That would be your conscience."

"It needs to shut up."

"Doesn't know when to quit. How appropriate for you."

"Ha, ha. You're not funny."

Silence passed between them. Kaff could tell she had something she wanted to say but didn't have the words for.

"Listen, Sunbeam, I know you mean well, but what's wrong with me can't be fixed."

"So why go to this doctor then?"

She exhaled. "It'll get the Captain off my back. Help ease _his_ conscience a bit."

"What if he _can_ help you?"

"Some of us… there's people who get dealt a shitty hand in life. Outta that miserable group you got the ones who go on to change the world, the ones that find happiness, the ones who live 'sort-of-okay ever after', and then you got the ones who just ain't meant to be anything. Outta that last group, you're either just plain unlucky, or here as a warning to other people about what happens if you fuck up. I'm just plain unlucky, Sunbeam, and that ain't gonna change. I'd rather do what I can with my sorry life and hold on to what little I got left than keep putting it on the line when I'm just gonna lose. You get what I'm saying?"

The Irken didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. Didn't look at her, just kept his eyes fixed on his hands. She stared much the same way, sitting at the side of the bed Kaff was laying on with her feet pressing into the floor, hunched over with her elbows on her knees.

"What you said before, about the organiprosthetics." She didn't really care what she was saying anymore. Maybe it was because she felt so bad about knocking him out when he'd only been trying to help. "You were right."

Kaff blinked in confusion.

"This ain't my real arm. I even got a few fake ribs."

The Irken scrutinized the limb with curiosity. Lulu looked at him. "Can I take a look?"

She awkwardly held out her arm to the scientist, trying to ignore him as he examined it. The muscle density was wrong. The "bone" didn't feel quite natural through her skin. It was a decent prosthetic, though. He noticed a slight scar near her collarbone, tracing it with his finger until it disappeared under the non-sleeve of her shirt. When he considered the ribs she'd lost and the organs she hadn't mentioned but probably had replaced, he frowned and realized she'd lost a decent third of her body. He sighed in a sad tone and kissed her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Lulu."

She shook her head with a frustrated exhale.

"Not sorry for _you_. Sorry for what you lost."

"Was just an arm."

"I think you lost something more than that along with it."

"Stop being smart."

"That's what they pay me for, isn't it? Being clever?"

"Well _I_ ain't payin' you shit." She replied without malice, what would have been a joke if not for the melancholy of the moment.

"It's okay. I'm made that way. At least, that's what _you_ said."

"Quit rubbin' it in."

He let out an amused sigh, "So it's okay for you to do it to me, but when I do the same to you, it's not allowed? That's hypocrisy."

"My house, Sunbeam. _My_ rules – and I'll be as hypocritical as I damn well please."

"Sure, Lu," he said with a small smile, lightly tracing non-existent patterns on her prosthetic shoulder, "sure."

She turned her head to glance back at Kaff, raising an eyebrow, "What are you doin'?"

He shrugged, "Don't know. Am I not supposed to?"

"You ain't even supposed to _be here_ in the first place; on Tauron, gettin' picked up by hookers. You weren't supposed to agree to help, or go along with the plan, get knocked out by my stubborn ass, and you sure as hell ain't supposed to know _nothin_ ' 'bout my arm." She replied with a sigh, "But seein' as you went and did all that other shit _anyway_ , I guess it's all right."

"I should be dead." He said casually, never interrupting the lazy, continuous, curving gestures against her skin.

"I didn't mean it like that, Kaff."

He smiled a little, "Must really mean it if you used my real name."

Her expression was not amused.

"What I meant was that I _ought_ to be dead. I was running late on my lunch break and by the time I got back to work, the place was already burning. Everyone was already dead. I went inside, you know, to make sure. Found one of my co-workers. Couldn't tell which one, though. Too mangled."

"You don't gotta talk 'bout it if you don't wanna. I don't gotta know."

"Might as well tell someone. Can't stop seeing it every time I close my eyes. I fall asleep and I'm choking on smoke, there's ash in my lungs, and I'm staring at that bloody heap of an old friend. Sometimes I wanna know which one, and sometimes, I think it'd kill me to give that bloody heap a face. I just… I can't believe they're really dead. I know they weren't friends like most people would think of friends, but I guess they were the closest thing I had to the idea. Why don't Irkens have friends?" He wondered out loud, "You're basically a stranger, and you're the closest friend I've ever had."

She sighed heavily. She wasn't looking at him anymore, but she was addressing him as directly as she knew how. "My arm," she said, "I lost it during the Vortian Riots."

"First or second?"

"First."

"The ones before the Irken-Vortian Agreement under Miyuki?"

"Yeah. I ain't really a tactical thinker, more like get myself into situations and wing it from there. I used to think I could survive anything. Fuck, I made it off Azuria alive. Stowed away in the Invader's own ship before he left and managed to keep myself out of sight until he parked on the Massive. Stole myself a Spittle Runner while they were all being deployed in preparation for the planet's destruction. Nobody noticed. Too many of 'em, how _could_ they?

But the Vortian Riots… they were worse than anybody tells 'em. Fuckin' tanks rollin' down the streets, shit blowin' up… was how I met the Captain. Got as many people together as we could, and fought back. We were both in the same squad, and we'd managed to secure hold of a key area. Irk basically withdrew forces from everywhere else and overwhelmed us. 'Nar and I were holding a ground position along the fallback route. Surrender didn't mean nothin'. We'd been wavin' the white flag for three hours and nothin' stopped.

I ran out of fusion cells, and I told 'Nar to cover me while I reloaded. He took out two of the five advancing on us before his clip ran out. I was facing the soldiers 'Nar had been shootin', so I didn't see the guy coming in on the right with a plasma cannon. Destroyed three ribs, broke my collarbone, collapsed one lung, fractured my hip… I shouldn't've survived. Nar stayed down an' they must've figured he was dead or somethin', 'cause they never came back."

She chuckled humorlessly, "Half my body's blown off, an' I was _still_ conscious. Plasma cauterized the damage so I didn't bleed out – you ever get a plasma burn?"

Kaff shook his head.

"Didn't think so. Fuckin' _hurts_. Didn't stay awake too long. 'Nar, stubborn bastard that he is, emergency-radioed some real rich friend of his. A party-boy livin' off his dad's money, if I remember right. His family was neutral in all this, somehow, 'cause they exported somethin' useful or whatever… that part don't matter. 'Nar's friend called in a favor and suddenly, the fightin' stopped. An Irken Evac shuttle landed with a fully-equipped trauma crew… even had a sterile OR. Fitted me with a top-of-the-line fake."

She sighed, "Those nightmares you were talkin' 'bout before; I used to get 'em, too."

"Liar."

She turned her eyes to look at him with a cold, serious glare, " _Liar_?" She nearly snarled.

"You _still_ get them, don't you?"

She looked away, the anger gone. Light shined off her eyes.

"We both lost something that defined who we were. Sorta different but still kinda the same. You've got machinery built into you. I've got the Pak built into me. Both of us are a little less _real_ than most, I guess."

She sighed, "Shut up."

Kaff's hand slid off her shoulder and he frowned in disappointment as she stood up.

"Move over."

The Irken didn't quite comprehend the request.

She sighed, " _That's_ more like you. We ain't both gonna fit if you're gonna sit in the middle there."

"Oh." He said, eyes widening, " _Oh_ , oh… um, yeah, should I get up?"

She rolled her eyes, "Just move over, Boy-Genius," she explained, pulling the covers back and slipping underneath them with a sigh. Relaxing herself, she curled up against the Irken, "If you tell _anyone_ about this," she said, "I'll kill you."

He gave an almost-laugh, draping an arm around her shoulders, "Gotcha."

* * *

"You sent for Zim, Captain?" A _very_ eager former-Invader-Turned-Food-Service-Drone asked excitedly as he raced onto the bridge, standing up as straight as possible, offering a sharp salute.

Lard Nar nodded, "And the Human."

"The Dib-Pig is on his way!" He affirmed.

"You know, uh… you don't have to salute me, Zim. We're not all that formal around here, you know? Just… just try to _relax_."

"Yes, Sir!"

He momentarily considered calling the whole thing off, but bit his lip instead. After all, Red and Purple would not have asked him on board or recommended him for active duty if he was not capable of producing results.

"You're _late_ , Pig-Boy!" Zim announced upon Dib's entrance.

The boy rolled his eyes. "I was _right_ behind you. There was no time limit, Zim."

The Irken paused for a moment, "Oh yeah."

Dib just sighed, "Don't mind him, Captain. He gets like this when he's got nothing to do."

Lard Nar could not deny that he was relieved to hear that. "It's all right, Dib. I've called you both here because… well," he sighed, "we need you."

"… _Really_?" Zim asked, blinking several times, worried that maybe he'd heard wrong. "Need us for what?"

"A mission. I won't lie to you, I hoped to ease you both into this, but you two are my best bet. If it goes smoothly, you shouldn't have an issue." He sighed, "However, I don't think there will be anything remotely smooth about it, and I foresee it becoming a disaster for the kind of person who can't think creatively and adapt. There's a _huge_ risk involved, and neither of you has to go if you don't feel sure about it, but out of everyone here at the moment, you're best suited for the job."

"Which is?" Dib asked.

"There was a group of scientists who tested the inoculation Irk intends to use on its people. They're lethal, as you already know. Naturally, the scientists were killed, with the exception of one. He was late returning to his shift after lunch and managed to escape the planet alive before anyone knew he hadn't been taken care of. Our faction on Tauron managed to find him and he's currently at the base. We need to get him _here,_ though, so he'll have the resources to hopefully come up with an anti-viral. He's got a very capable escort. You'll also be bringing her back here.

If you have a problem, default to her. She survived the Vortian Riots, so she knows what she's doing – even if it's a little eccentric. I think Zim will like her methods. Don't worry, I told her no grenades. We want to try and move quickly and quietly, but in the event that hell breaks loose, which it _always_ seems to, we need someone who can get the job done. That's the two of you."

"Zim understands, Sir! He will not let you down!"

Dib nodded, "Got it, Captain."

"You ought to have a chat with Lulu about how you want to do this. You can't just _land_ anywhere on the surface; it's a layover planet. Like a space station, only much bigger. A lot of cruise liners ship out from there, and there's non-stop commuter shuttles and cargo ships, too. Every take off and landing requires a special code, or they'll do one of two things: shoot you out of the air, or meet you on the ground with a team of Planetary Security.

Sally can easily hack their system and create a false log that will clear you for entry and exit – though the exit will be the hardest part, with all the security on high alert. I'm not sure how you'll get past them… creating a distraction is probably your best option. I've heard you're quite good at that, Zim."

"Well, that's _one way_ to say it…"

"At any rate, I know this is quite a lot to ask of you, but given the limited window we have to work in, you'll have to make up your minds quickly.

"Zim accepts." He replied firmly, without hesitation.

Dib shrugged. Thinking about it meant he'd have to thinkabout his whole situation, and he wasn't quite sure he could handle how hard the culture shock was going to hit. It was best, he thought, to familiarize himself with everything and get as used to this new, strange setting as quickly as possible. He hoped that it would minimize the negative effects he knew there would be no way to avoid.

His glace evaluated the Irken standing next to him. Eager and excited, and just a little nervous, Zim seemed much more in his element here than Dib had ever seen him. Still, as odd as it sounded, he could not deny that he was infinitely more comfortable in the alien's presence. It reminded him of home, and out here, it was all he had. Strange, how the only things that reminded him of home were Zim and GIR, two things that were not from Earth at all.

"Come, Filthy Meat-Child! We must strategize!"

* * *

**Allusions & References **

" **what you plan and what takes place** " and " **no grenades** " are from _Serenity_

" **fair amount of connecting** " - is from Buffy the Vampire Slayer

**Lulu's arm** is sort-of a nod to _I, Robot_ (the Will Smith movie, not the book)

I know there were others but I'm tired and I really want to post this. Sorry if the proofreading is a bit shoddy.

**Notes**

Huge, massive I'M SORRY! Chapters will be shorter, but more frequent. I will try to update once a month at _least_. My new job has been a _huge_ adjustment, as well as keeping up with grad school and my own art. 16 is the end of the first story arc (it's a three-arc story, FYI). I planned to cram it all into 15, but it's been nearly four months without an update, and that's hardly fair to you guys.

Thanks for your patience. It's so wonderful to hear people are _still_ paying attention to this thing. Much love to all the readers, and reviewers. I have to give special props to Double-Oh-Seven on dA for the wonderful fanarts she's made. I'm so thankful for all of you incredible people. :)


	16. Chapter 16

**\- 16 -**

As the void ship docked, everyone silently hoped they hadn't embarked on a suicide mission. There were much better, and far more interesting ways to die. They heard the hiss of the airlock and the mechanical whirr as it opened. Mei had had created the illusion of the proper crew, so when the guard glanced inside the ship, he just nodded curtly at Purple, who'd volunteered to sign over the prisoners. His disguise did little to ease his mind, even though he knew that to anyone else, he was indistinguishable from any other Irken. The moment felt frozen in Purple's mind, but the task took under thirty seconds to complete. His stomach was completely tied in knots that felt tied in knots, but the choice had between he and Red, and the decision ultimately came down to which Irken could hold the pen steady. Red hadn't taken it well, but there wasn't any time to argue.

The guard nodded with an affirmative grunt and explained that the ship would be clear to leave in an hour. The time limit wasn't ideal by any means, but they'd just have to settle for what they could get with what time they had.

The minute they stepped inside the prison, it felt wrong. The nature of the structure itself just felt _wrong_ somehow. It was cold and stark and oddly sterile, strangely open for a prison. They hadn't known what to expect, but _this_ was certainly not what they'd anticipated. It wasn't an enormous underground dungeon or a Medieval-Earth-esque torture chamber. No candles or moody, brooding hallways. No ornate religious depictions or quotations on the walls or stained-glass windows. The sick stench of blood and death was absent. No screaming, no crying, not even elevator music… just quiet and calm. A very _wrong_ sort of calm.

Based on what they already knew about the people they were dealing with, it had been understood that whatever this place contained, it would be a very different type of prison from anything any of them had ever encountered. It never occurred to them that it would be so… bland. Even Tak's cynicism was suspended in shock for a moment as she tried to take in her surroundings.

It was not heavily guarded. Yes, two guards were posted at each airlock, but that was standard procedure. Inside, no one could see _any_ security personnel at any of the doors. Red even noticed something that looked remarkably like a reception area.

Mei took a moment to scan the floor. She couldn't see through walls, of course, but she could feel the flow and concentration of energies in various directions. _"This way."_ She said telepathically, indicating the proper direction with a nod.

"Get the fuck _out_ of my head!" Red snarled as quietly as possible, furious.

"Shut up!" Purple hissed back wearing a threatening expression, "Now is _not_ the time."

Red folded his arms across his chest and grudgingly followed as Mei led them out of what they assumed was some sort of main area and down a maze of hallways until she stopped in front of a door. "It's empty." She whispered out loud, if only to appease Red.

Everyone seemed fairly stunned that the biometric override was successful. They'd expected alarms and flashing lights and for everything to go straight to Hell. Once safely behind a locked door, Skooge asked what everyone else was wondering.

"Why isn't the security tighter?"

"The Void itself is a pretty secure defense system in it's own right. You can't get in without the proper ship, which you can't get outside the Empire." Tenn answered.

"According to our evaluation," Buir said, "the prisoners here are more of a danger to themselves than to the staff, and none of them are in the mental state to even _consider_ running away."

Tenn was the only one to notice that Purple took his partner's hand in response to Buir's last statement.

"They break you." Red explained with a sour expression, "They strike at you hard, where you're weak but don't know it. We tried to run once before."

"I think what he means to say is that Buir's right." Purple offered, not at all comfortable with his partner's mindset. "Spleenk mentioned something about form and function, didn't he?"

"Yeah." Red replied, "One follows the other. Things are built a certain way for a specific purpose."

"What better way to stay hidden than a place no one can physically enter, and everyone is terrified of?" Tak asked, "It's perfect for them."

"How do we find a research terminal?" Tenn asked.

Skooge shook his head, "The information we want won't be on a research terminal. If it is, there's probably a special protocol we'd have to go through, or at least some kind of secure login."

"He's right." Tak nodded. "It's what I'd do. I think we're better off screwing with computer systems as little as possible."

The stout Irken frowned. "Any reading on Grel yet, Mei?"

"I was just about to try." She said, taking a few deep breaths to center herself and expel the anxiety she could not help but feel creeping in on her usually serene mindset. She gradually entered a deep meditative state, closing her eyes to ward off unnecessary sensory stimulation and opened her mind, reaching out until she felt a unique energy. She recognized it as a consciousness and focused on tuning out everything else, allowing herself to synchronize with its delta waves before reaching out to touch the mind directly.

" _Do not be alarmed. I mean no harm. I am looking for someone."_

"… _Mei? Is that you?"_

She recognized the voice instantly. She faltered for a moment, nearly breaking the very delicate connection between them. _"…Grel?"_ She asked tentatively.

A noise that sounded like a light, easy chuckle, _"Took you long enough."_

" _Y-yes. Far too long. I was arrogant and,"_

Calm, gentle, _"It's all right, Mei. What's past is past. I knew you'd come. Are there others with you?"_

" _Yes. Several members of the Resistance. We… we were told you could help."_

" _I'm afraid I'm not much good in a fight these days."_

" _Is there anything you can tell us?"_

" _Now_ there's _something I can definitely do. Please, though,"_ he asked sincerely, _"I must ask one thing of you and your friends. I will tell you everything I know, but I beg you for one favor in return."_

" _I-It's the least I can do."_

He sighed, relieved and happy, _"They keep me on the third basement floor of the complex. You're not far away. There's a few special elevators; if you go down the corridor and make a left, then your first right, it's a door that looks like a closet. The handle reads a sample of the DNA deposited through contact. I can't help you access that, but once you get in there, there's an elevator panel on one of the walls. Basement 3 is where you want to go. You'll have to make your way to the southeast wing. I'm in room 206A."_

"… _How long have you been here, Grel?"_

He sounded as if he were smiling, _"Don't worry about it."_

" _Please?"_

He sighed, _"I will explain when you reach me. It'll be nice to see a familiar face."_ He genuinely seemed pleased.

Nervous and unsure of what to expect, Mei gradually broke the connection and took a moment to center herself.

"Any luck?" Purple asked without the least bit of optimism.

"Yes." She replied, "I have located Grel. He claims to have information we can use. He has also asked for a small favor in return for his help."

Red opened his mouth to speak, however, Purple's voice cut him off before he could make a sound.

"I know, Red, it sounds stupid and ridiculous but we have no other choice. We're here now, it's the only concrete lead we have, and I did _not_ come all this way to walk out of here with less knowledge than we had when we came in. We need to do this if we want to have a chance."

Red looked torn between anger and thoughtfulness. "I hate that you know me that well."

"No you don't." The other replied matter-of-factly.

Red sighed, "No. You're right. I don't."

"Do you know where we can find him, Mei?"

"Yes, but it might be somewhat difficult to get there. We will have to get past a DNA checkpoint."

"Let's be hypothetical for a second," Skooge began, "you can get inside other people's heads, right, Mei?"

She nodded, not liking at all the direction in which the conversation was heading.

"And you can do… stuff to them, right?"

"…Yes."

"So, is there a way… I mean, could you sort of "hijack" their minds, so to speak?"

"You want me to take away someone's free will."

"Yeah, I think that's pretty much what he's trying to say." Tak answered bluntly.

Mei sighed, "I… it is _possible_ for me to do what you are asking – however," she explained, "it goes against everything I believe in."

"Isn't there a gray area somewhere? Can't you try some kind of post-hypnotic suggestion?" Skooge asked.

"Post-hypnotic suggestion is just a convenient way of saying "manipulation." Mei replied. She was not comfortable with what was being asked of her. Though her people did not have specific religious beliefs, they valued the mind above all else and believed it to be the most sacred part of an individual. Manipulating the consciousness of another was unimaginable. However, she had gone against the ways of her people and one of those acts of defiance was currently being held on the third basement floor.

"Look, Mei," Purple sighed, "we know what we're asking you is against your way but right now it's the only option we have. We can't get through that checkpoint any other way. We need your help."

Conflict spread across her face and she looked rather ill, but swallowed the rising nausea and swallowed the lump in her throat, where it sank like ice-cold lead in the pit of her stomach. "…A-all right. I will help you."

Mei was not the slightest bit at ease with what she was being asked to do. She knew, however, there was no other way around it. Carefully, she scanned the minds nearest to them until she found one with the clearance they needed.

" _You've forgotten to open the door to the custodial closet elevator. It's extremely important. You have an assignment you've forgotten about."_

From a distance, safely obscured by Mei's perception shield, they watched as a guard approached the access door, input the proper password, completed the DNA scan, and froze completely. His expression was beyond vacant. Hollow, empty, just plain fucking scary. The only movement he made was the occasional blinking of his eyes.

Mei stepped forward, indicating with a gesture that everyone else should do the same. Hesitantly, the others followed, maintaining a cautious distance between themselves and the seer. Once everyone was safely behind the door the guard had opened, Mei carefully scanned the guard's memory and erased the instructions she'd given him.

" _You have just completed your task and you intend to return to your scheduled duties."_

The Irken shook himself from his state as Mei broke the connection and without a second thought, closed the door. "He is no threat to us. We can proceed to the third basement level."

Everyone piled into the elevator, which was something of a tight squeeze, but they managed without complaint.

"If you don't mind my asking, Mei," Skooge began, "how do you "delete" someone's memory?"

"Once you have established control of a life form's energy and your minds are in sync, you must pinpoint the exact location of the memory and manipulate the brain's electrical energy to "short out" the synapses around that memory. If the neurons are dead, the memory cannot be accessed."

"Oh. Interesting."

"I have made you uncomfortable."

"We were _always_ uncomfortable." Red grumbled.

"If I were going to turn on you, Red, it would have been much more effective to have done it already. I could have planted a mental suggestion in the Tallest to send the Armada to Malterra and taken care of the Resistance without traveling across the universe, risking my life as well as Buir's. Would I not have exposed you on the void ship instead of assisting you in achieving your objective? I understand your skepticism and I do not fault you for it, but I have just sacrificed an extremely scared belief for your well being. I would appreciate it if you would, for one moment, cease to question my loyalty."

Red found himself without a response, but luckily, the elevator came to a stop and interrupted the awkward conversation. The doors opened and the group stepped out onto the third basement floor. Mei sighed heavily, trying to prepare herself for the confrontation she had dreaded since the day her planet was destroyed and she felt the aftershocks ripple throughout the universe. Every quiet step was a step was heavier than the last, as if her legs were made of lead. Her knees threatened to buckle but she refused to give away even the slightest hint of a tremor and forced herself onward.

She did not know what Grel would say, but she did know that the truth would alienate her even further, leaving her at distance impossible to reconcile. She couldn't afford to lose their trust, especially Red and Purple. The future was so delicate. Prophecy, she once said, was a guess that came true – and that statement had never been more real than right now, turning down the second corridor, leading to what could be personal salvation or demise, which would in turn be the deciding factor in Red and Purple's fate. The future of the universe depended on their survival, and it was her job to make sure it happened.

Red was not slow to recognize Mei's unusual behavior. In his years, he'd learned to read people quite well, and he could tell she was deeply troubled. Someone as clear-headed and calm as Mei should have been focused and alert. She was uncharacteristically withdrawn and clearly distracted. It did nothing to reassure him but Purple was right, as much as he hated to admit it. As unlikely as it was, the Grel thing was their only lead. It wasn't much, but it was _something_ , and they desperately needed some sort of break. They needed to know exactly what they were up against so they could work out how to best approach dealing with it.

The anxiety radiating from Tenn practically screamed at Tak and Skooge, who were struggling to keep themselves level-headed and alert. Tak wasn't sure if it was the anxiety that put her on edge, or rather the fact that it was coming from someone like _Tenn._ It worried her substantially to think that an Irken with her fearless and determined reputation could be so frightened. Tak rarely had experienced anything akin to fear. Maybe when the life support systems on her ship went offline and for a split second, she had actually believed that she was going to die – though she'd never admit such a thing in the presence of another creature that might live to breathe a word of it. Now, though, Tak couldn't help but wonder what Tenn had seen that was worthy of such a reaction.

Skooge knew no more than Tak did about the source of Tenn's anxiety, but he shared her view that whatever they were in the presence of, it was powerful and dangerous enough to legitimately frighten a hardened soldier like Tenn. He knew it was not the time or place to ask, and from the ice cold expression on her face, Skooge wasn't sure there would ever _be_ an appropriate time or place.

Every time she blinked her eyes, she saw herself in the basement of that Vortian prison. Around every corner, the grip on the handle of her sword tightened, prepared to come face to face with a hooded figure. She was on the razor-thin edge of a panic attack, just barely holding on to that proverbial last thread. Maybe she should take Spleenk up on his offer when she got back to Malterra – _if_ she got back to Malterra. She wasn't sure what good would come of talking about it, but Spleenk had proved on several occasions that he, to invoke the human slang, "knew his shit." Red and Purple both trusted him immensely, and if he'd managed to help them out, after the kind of trauma they'd survived, she was fairly confident that he would be at least marginally helpful.

Tenn made a mental note to contact Spleenk as soon as she got the chance, _if_ she got the chance. She understood that this was the only real opportunity they would have at catching a glimpse of what was really going on, and she knew how real and immediate the threat was, but she couldn't stop seeing Vort in her mind. Her side throbbed painfully, though her stitches had long since healed and the wound was nothing more than a rather nasty scar. She fought desperately to appear calm, regardless of how futile it was.

All too quickly, they came face-to-face with room 206A. They overrode the door and Tak applied a device made from a simple magnetic strip to freeze the security camera. Once she'd switched on the audio interference device, she gave the all clear.

"…Are you sure we're in the right place?" Skooge asked tentatively.

"You'd better have a damn good reason for bringing us here, because if this is some sick practical joke of yours, Mei, you're going to regret it."

"Not the time, Red." Purple replied.

" _Ah. So_ you're _Red. I'd shake your hand right now, if I had 'em."_

Red glared at Mei, "I thought I told you to stay out of my head!"

"Shh! Shut up, Red!" Purple replied, slapping his wrist, "I-I don't think that was Mei."

"Who was it, then?" He asked, gesturing at the table, "This lump of brain-meats?"

" _Hey, I've got a name, you know."_

"…Is everyone hearing that?"

" _I asked Mei to sort-of… give me a microphone, would be a good way to put it. It's a horribly intrusive way to have a conversation, but at least I can talk to all of you directly. Thankfully, They haven't found a brain compatible with me yet."_ He sighed.

"I guess you're Grel." Purple responded, addressing the brain-meats floating in the jar on the table, connected to a seemingly endless series of wires that ran through a computer and several other complicated-looking devices. "That's what happened to Pethra, then. They cleared him out and streamed your data into him?"He asked.

" _Yes. Is he all right?_ _When the connection broke, I thought he died."_

"No, he's all right. Well, that depends on how loose your definition of "all right" is, I suppose. He's pretty unstable. We've got him in a medical facility."

" _He is a very good man. Not that I get out much, but good people are hard to come by these days."_

"I'm enjoying this conversation and all," Red started, "but how the hell did you know my name?" He briefly considered the insanity involved in talking to what was a literal lump of artificial brain-meats, but decided it was best to think about that later.

" _They used to talk about you. Both of you, actually."_

Everyone tensed.

"They're here?" Purple asked.

" _Of course they are."_ Grel replied, as if discussing the weather, _"Who else would they trust to work here? The ships are always manned by normal Irkens, but this place is staffed by that crazy bastard and his lunatics. They're mixed in with the regular staff outside of the Void. Cafeteria workers, janitorial drones, navigators… the ones who disappear into the background. Why do you think you two always got caught?"_

"What did I ever do that was so interesting?" Red asked.

" _Well, I don't think a soul in the universe, besides Iris, ever came close to pissing him off_ near _as badly as you did. Hell, you killed him once."_

"Who? And _what_ the hell are you talking about?"

" _Let me guess: he never told you his name. He's had a lot of them. The public knew him as Gileon for a while. You tore clean through his femoral artery with your teeth once. They kept his Pak alive long enough to transfer all his data to another body."_

"Wait. They can do that?"

" _How the hell do you think he's lived so long? Most of his little minions are more than willing to give their lives for him."_

"Wouldn't there be a conflict with the organic brain? The Paks, from what I understand, are just an override, right?"

" _Well, yes and no. In the case of a normal Irken, you're right. In this case, what they do is go in to the lucky volunteer's head, cut out his memories, and reformat the Pak. They spend months mapping the guy's brain out, so they remove only what's necessary. Replace it with neural relays programmed to feed off the Pak's secondary hard drive, and then pack the body up in cryo. Why do you think you've never seen his face?"_

"But… his voice never changed."

" _Voice modulator. Built into his voice-box."_

"How do you know all this?" Purple asked.

" _I did eight years of research before they caught up with me. Back before the information had been wiped from the Universal Database, when Extoll was still around. Plus, you start to pick up a thing or two when you're around somebody for thousands of years. At least, I think it's thousands. Hell if I know – not that he pays much mind to me anymore. That's not the point."_

"Can you tell us anything about them? We need to know what we're really up against."

As if he were cringing, _"It's worse than you know."_

"It usually is." Purple replied evenly.

Confidently now, _"I'll tell you everything. I need just to ask one favor in return."_

Red shrugged. "That depends."

Purple sighed at his partner's response, though it came as no surprise, "We'll do it, Grel. Just please, give us _something_."

He exhaled, as if he'd never been happier. _"I guess the best place to start would be at the very beginning. Irk reached the stars long before almost all the other current races. It was a peaceful planet, believe it or not. Their first contact was with a group of Extollian monks. Once they were space-ready, relations with the Scarlet Junction turned Irk into a huge center of commerce. It was a pretty thriving planet long before I was born._

_Those Paks were what did it, if you ask me. That was the beginning of the end. God, was that a tragedy. That poor woman had nothing but love in her and the world robbed her of everything, twice over."_

"Who?"

" _She was an Irken. Her name was Iris. Universally-famous Dr. Iris, creator of the Pak, two-time winner of the Intergalactic Guild of Scientific Achievement Award. One thing that's true no matter where you go is that nothing motivates a person quite like grief. Lost her husband in a cruiser crash that turned her boy into a vegetable. She just couldn't let him go… not that it's my place to say she should have. Never had a family myself; even so, I don't know if I would've done it differently. Anyway, she took care of her son at home where she did nothing for the next nine years but look for a way to fix him. Nine years, and she finally found it."_

"…A way to restore the organic brain's functionality by using an override-brain. Fixed his endocrine and nervous systems and installed what's become the internal backup." Purple answered.

" _Huge breakthrough, those Paks. A real controversy right from the start. Some said it was "playing god" and others saw it as the next stage of Irken evolution. The Irken army saw it as a way to minimize casualties, at first. It was optional for anyone enlisted in the army, and slowly integrated itself into the medical community, only used in extreme circumstances._

_Naturally, the military engineers got their hands on Pak technology as soon as they could. It was incredibly complex and delicate, and only a few experts really understood the science of how it worked. Didn't stop them from turning it into a weapon. An engineer named Nath became pretty famous for his contribution. He argued that Irkens were at a huge disadvantage in battle because of their naturally small stature, especially in hand-to-hand combat. His "thesis" happened to coincide with Irk's first interstellar scuffle. The Nahdari took over a few neutral planets with blatantly hostile aggression. They're extinct now, but they were a pretty brutal race. A few races joined together and drove them out, but before they could, the Irken government pleaded with Iris to integrate the Pak-legs. She didn't want to, but at the time, it really was for the greater good, if that's possible to believe._

_When the Nahdari were wiped out, Irk credited its success to the innovation of the Pak-legs. Even worse, they gave credit to Iris for it and offered her a contract working for the military. I can't blame her for taking the position. After all, it was the only way she could keep the technology in her own hands. The less people who knew about how the Pak worked, the better because she'd have more control over it. We all learn the hard way, I think, that control is just an illusion._

_They lied to her about the real purpose of the research they commissioned, and when she finally figured it out, it was too late. They played her concern off as "inspiration" and "innovation." Gave her an Intergalactic Guild of Scientific Achievement award for developing a new model that "enhanced the quality of Irken life," but what it really did was assume the functions of the brain._

_Then one day, a nobody who called himself "Gileon" suggested integrating Paks at birth. Made a compelling argument for it, too. Said that without a Pak, the government was condemning thousands of smeets to death. All the smeets that died from illnesses could have been saved if they'd had a Pak, since their immune systems weren't strong enough to fight viruses an adult Irken would have already had the antibodies for. Irkens actually used to reproduce properly, once upon a time. It's understandable that when the life of your own flesh and blood is at stake, there's nothing a parent wouldn't give to keep their child safe. He said Iris proved it, because that was what motivated her to create the Pak._

_He was charming. Nice. Easy to listen to. Inspiring. Knew what to say and how and when to say it to get the response he wanted. The right word at the right time in the right place can make history, and that was exactly what Gil did. Started a revolution out of absolutely nothing. Pointed at the smoke and screamed "fire" and everybody ran without ever noticing Gil was the one lighting the match. He wasn't a politician, either. Just a "concerned citizen" who took all the power his supporters gave him. Eventually, he had more power than any of the politicians in office._

_Of course, that's not to say people didn't wonder where he came from and who he was before his first public appearance. He planned for that, though. That was actually the_ point _of taking on a new name. He waited for someone to call him on it in public and sure enough, it happened. Said he changed his name after the alliance defeated the Nahdari because he'd been a POW and the experience gave him the courage to start a new life because he'd survived. Nobody could protest it either, because it was true. He even had a DNA test to prove it. His name was Rhaye and he had been in the Special Forces. Instead of people asking how he survived without completely losing his mind, it made him a hero. He had sympathy on his side and no one could argue that he wasn't a patriot. Even better, since he hadn't been the one to bring it up, it made him look generous and selfless. It shut everybody up._

_Then the miscarriages started. Irken women started miscarrying at epidemic levels. I wouldn't be surprised to find out he and his followers were the cause behind them because there was Gil, talking about how the ban on test-tube gestation was the problem, and that growing smeets in a simulated womblike environment would make miscarriages a thing of the past. Not only that, he said, the Irken race would doom itself to extinction if nothing was done. Poor Iris wanted to research the miscarriages and find out what was causing them, but the government withdrew all her funding and sided with Gileon. That was how the Hatchery came about._

_That was around the time when the "deportations" started. By "deportations" I mean, "executions". By the time it burned, only 10% of the population was non-Irken. Everything was going to hell but as long as Gil was talking, almost everyone was happy to listen. I filed for an off-world transfer with my company six times. Finally got it. Was scheduled to leave a week after the planet burned._

_It started like any other day. Get up, breakfast, shower, get dressed, head to work. No warning, and all of a sudden everything was on fire. A whole lot of Irkens hadn't showed up to work, but I saw a few of them in combat uniforms on the street, beating some of our co-workers until their brains were jelly. I just stood there until they saw me and aimed. There_ _were three gunshots but I was still alive, and they weren't. Some guy I'd never met before told me to go with him. He had a cruiser stashed in the emergency hangar at the Capitol… you guys call it the Palace, now. I'm sure there's been some renovations. He worked as an ethics advisor there, and he figured something like this was bound to happen. Told me he was Dr. Iris's second husband, and gave me a recording. He told me where I could find her, and made me promise I would._

_We got cornered at the hangar and he gave me the authorization code. I thought he was right behind me when he said to run to the cruiser. I got to the door and heard gunfire and he wasn't behind me. I would have felt too selfish to leave, but the man had just given his life for me… I couldn't let him die for nothing. So I got into the cruiser, activated stealth mode, shot down as many as I could, and then hauled ass. Made it off world just before the planet closed._

_I thought if I tried to track Iris down too soon, word would get around. I waited too long, though, and word got back to them eventually that somebody survived the Purge. That's the name_ They _gave it, anyway. I was intercepted a few years later. I met with the leader of Mei's people, the Divine Mistress, but I never made it to Mei, herself. Got picked up at a space station. If you want to have any chance of winning this at all, you're going to need to find Iris."_

"She's still alive?" Tenn asked curiously.

" _I should hope so, or else we're all doomed. I managed to discover, before I got picked up, she was hiding out somewhere Gileon wouldn't ever be able to find her. She put herself in a stasis chamber with the help of some Extollian monks. Her second husband was part of the order. I found out that she was on a little moon somewhere outside the farthest reaches of space. The only way you'll be able to find her is through Mei."_

"Oh really?" Red asked, "How does that work?" Turning toward the Prophetess, he asked, "Did _you_ know about this?"

By her facial expression alone, it was obvious that this was the first mention she'd heard of it.

" _Mei's people… they weren't destroyed like everyone thinks. They evolved past the physical form and formed some kind of "hive mind." Before their planet was destroyed, the Divine Mistress sent them off to protect Iris. Their collective energy maintains a perception shield around whatever moon she's on. Mei had to stay behind, because she was the only one strong enough, next to the Divine Mistress, who would be able to locate her people."_

If Mei had looked confused before, the expression on her face made even Red feel bad for her. Grel continued to speak, but Mei was too far in shock to care. For the first time in her life, she felt so ill that she thought she might vomit. Her people hadn't left her. She'd misunderstood. She'd misunderstood, and she'd cost a man his life. While it was arguable that Grel was still "alive" in a sense, what he'd experienced before his physical body died must have been unreal. Thousands of images leaked into her head in rapid succession. Grel was not sending these memories at her intentionally; rather, it had been her wandering thoughts as she tried to grasp the incredible weight of the consequences of her ignorance that had accidentally caused her to slip into Grel's mind and glimpse his history. She was not accustomed to having her power amplified by the void and found herself only able to break the deep connection with Grel once Buir shook her into the present.

"Are you all right, Mei? Has something happened?" The Paladin asked with considerable worry.

"Oh Grel… I…"

" _Don't worry about it. You've done nothing."_ Grel replied gently, as if trying to console her, _"What's past is past. Anyway, back to what I saying before."_ He said, quickly changing the direction of the conversation before anyone could suspect anything.

All that pain and suffering, and all it did was make him kind. So many years Grel had spent at the merciless hands of these twisted people, and Mei had never felt more deeply ashamed in her life. He held no resentment toward her. No anger, no desire for revenge, just mercy and understanding.

"Do you know anything about what they're planning?" Skooge asked.

"We know that whatever they had the military engineers on Vort doing, they planned on killing them once it was completed." Purple explained.

" _I'm afraid they don't tell me much."_

"I can look into the system." Mei stated, her voice drained of inflection, "I can bypass the security. I can bypass everything."

"Why the hell didn't you say so earlier?" Red asked angrily.

"Why the hell do you think your biometric override worked?" She shot back in an uncharacteristically fiery manner. "I said nothing because I do not want you to depend on my abilities! What will you do when I am no longer here? Do not _ever_ assume that having me around is a tactical advantage! I can die just as easily as any other crewmember, and you _need_ to know that!"

"She's right, Red." Purple replied softly, laying a hand on his mate's shoulder, "We all have to be ready to step up in case somebody falls. I think we know that better than anyone."

"You could bypass the system, Red. You're intelligent enough and you know your way around machines. The code is nothing you haven't seen before. The language of logic is universal. Everything comes down to "if, then" statements. No system is completely secure. If you had enough time to run a simple analysis on the system, you'd know what to do – but you wouldn't do it, would you? No. I can see it. You open the data bank and you freeze. Your mind goes blank. Your hands tremble and you're watching the seconds run down. The alarms sound and all of us are surrounded." She tore herself from her train of thought, "This is what happens if you do not regain your confidence. I will hack this system for you, but only as a lesson. I know you are angry with me. If it inspires you to lose your fear, then by all means, stay angry."

"…Did you just piss me off so I'd regain my confidence out of _spite_?"

"It worked, did it not?"

Red almost smiled. "Truce?"

"Truce."

"Good. Unless we get to a computer, fast, we won't have time for any hacking." Purple reminded before turning his attention back to Grel, "That disc Pethra has… that would be the message you want us to deliver?" He asked.

" _No – I erased that before they captured me. I had part of my brain cleared out and the data streamed into me. It's protected by neural blocks put in by the Divine Mistress, herself. I need Mei to remove them, and you'll have to export the data onto a new device."_

Red sighed, "You mean, you want one of us, with a Pak, to store the message."

" _Nothing gets past you, does it?"_ He sounded as if he were smiling, _"I hate to impose, but I don't trust external devices. They're too easy to hack."_

"You do realize that what you're asking will absolutely kill you, right?"

" _And you call_ this _being alive?"_ Grel asked rhetorically, _"Look at me, I'm a lump of synthetic neural tissue. I trust that you will be true to your word and deliver the message. I've kept my promise. It's time for me to rest."_

"Very well." Mei said, "I will remove the neural blocks. Skooge must be the one to bear the message."

"Why me?" Asked the stout ex-invader.

"If you want the universe to survive, Skooge must be the one."

Red bit his tongue and sighed, "If you're ok with it."

"Um, yeah. I guess. Sure."

"If you would, Red and Tak, please hook Skooge's spare partition up to Grel and make sure it's write-accessible. I will tell you when to bridge the connections." Mei said as she began to search for the neural blocks. They were a bit difficult to find, but they were much easier to identify with Mei's ability amplified by the Void. The blocks themselves would be incredibly complicated to remove, but the Prophetess refused to allow that to get in her way. Slowly, carefully, she focused on the energy flow of his synapses and began to bridge the neural connections, gradually waking up those suppressed by the blocks. They came undone like a shoelace and dissolved into nothing.

"Are you ready, Grel?"

_"Good luck, my friends. You should know that I've always admired you, Red and Purple. We all have our less-than-honorable moments but they don't define us. It's up to you to write your own definition. People will always say what they want. You have to have the courage to live up to the image of the person you want to be, for yourself and no one else. That goes for all of you."_ He sighed contentedly, _"I am ready now, Mei. Thank you for this. Thank you so much."_

Mei swallowed hard, "Bridge the connection."

Skooge felt a little tingly and aside from a sudden craving for licorice, felt nothing out of the ordinary as the necessary portion of Grel's data was copied into his Pak's spare partition. When the process was complete, there were a few sparks from the wires connected to the brain meats, indicating the cessation of neural activity.

"Quickly," Mei began, "reattach the wires as you found them. We have to move. _Now_."

A uniform feeling of dread crept into everyone's mind, "We triggered an alarm, didn't we?" Tak asked, though she already knew the answer.

"Quite right. We still need to get to the mainframe and we have only twenty minutes to do it without being seen."

"How do you propose we find the mainframe?" Red asked as they made their way down the hall and to the left.

Mei gestured to a thick black series of cords that ran along the ceiling, "We follow that."

"How do you know it's a power cord?"

She smiled, "I can sense the flow of energy, remember?"

Enthralled by the adrenaline, endorphins, and the incredible energies her mind was in sync with, the Prophetess dashed across the hall and led them through doorway after doorway in a complicated sequence that to everyone else felt like an Escher-esque labyrinth. They paused for a moment, backs pressed flush against the wall furiously struggling to control their breathing as a series of Irkens walked by. None of them were dressed in hoods or robes, though. Purple began to suspect that the garments he'd associated Them with were merely symbolic, if anything more than an act.

It made sense, too, he thought, once the coast was clear and Mei bolted straight ahead. They had to keep their faces obscured, or they'd be recognized when trying to blend in to the background as Grel had explained. Plus, there was protection in anonymity. Power, too.

He was starting to think that she might be leading them on some sort of endless chase until she effortlessly bypassed an incredibly secure checkpoint. "Stay here for a moment." Mei ordered firmly, "I will tell you when it is safe to enter."

The door swooshed open and shut behind her and for several moments, there was no sound until the doors swooshed open again and the Prophetess greeted them. "The area is secure. You may enter without worry."

The group shrugged and followed her into the mainframe control room, which featured a mammoth black computer standing floor-to-ceiling in the center of the room, almost like an extremely thick pillar. The walls were lined with control panels and monitors and tablet screens, and several workstations were arranged within the room. It was not hard to miss the twenty-something Irkens lying motionless on the ground, their faces contorted in pain and positioned as if they'd been clutching their heads.

"…What happened to them?" Skooge asked.

"Fatal brain hemorrhage." Mei answered evenly.

"What, _all_ of them?"

"Yes."

"Oh. _Oh_. Oh. Right. Yeah."

"Explain to me how we're supposed to pull something like _that_ off without your abilities, Mei?" Red asked, in reference to her earlier remark.

"You could just as easily have used knock-out gas or a neural toxin and protective breathing masks. What I did was more convenient, yes, but you would have gotten on just the same without me."

Red said nothing, slightly annoyed that she was right.

"As I said before, you are just as capable as I am, but in different ways. We each have our strengths and weaknesses. I dare you to prove yourself better than me."

Red had never walked away from a challenge and he certainly wasn't about to start with _Mei_. "You're on."

She smiled and nodded before closing her eyes and pressing her hand against the access panel on the mainframe. Numbers raced across her eyelids as her mind connected with the machine, solving intricate data matrices as if they were child's play until she'd unlocked every code and gained full access to the mainframe.

"Now, let's see what they've been up to."

* * *

**Allusions & Refrences**

The bit where Grel explains, **"It's worse than you know"** and Purple responds, **"It usually is"** is from _Serenity_

**The right word in the right place at the right time can make history** is straight from _Doctor Who_.

**Gileon** is an anagram for _Legion,_ which is a small nod to the unbelievably long _Stephen King movie called Storm of the Century_ in which "Linoge" is used as an anagram for "Legion," which in one of the books of the bible is what demon that possessed a man called itself when Jesus asked it's name; it answered, "our name is Legion, for we are many"

**All that pain and suffering, and all it did was make it kind** is lifted from an episode of _Doctor Who_.

**Notes**

Iris's name was originally Isis (Egyptian Goddess worshiped as the ideal of mother and wife, also the matron of nature and magic. I thought it fit, considering she was a mother and a wife, and being those was what motivated her).  However, I really don't want the government showing up at my house.

I wanted to include cuts to the other characters, but this chapter was really information-heavy and I think it needed to stand alone. I spent a lot of time working out Irk's backstory and I'm excited to finally reveal it.

Mei feels like a huge jerk and finally gets mad. The weight of her choices in the past haven't quite had time to really sink in yet.

This chapter didn't have much of the "character" most of the other ones do, but again, it was mostly information and it's really hard to characterize a lump of brain meats. Character reactions occur next chapter, along with Zim and Dib's mission, which I'm really enjoying writing.

I haven't died. I had like three months of horrible writer's block and then schoolwork completely took over my life. If anybody is still following this, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! I'm really sorry for taking so long.

Love to all,

Knockplease


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** So, it's been something like two years since I've updated. I promised myself and whatever readers I had that I wouldn't abandon this story, and I'll make good on that even if it takes me a lifetime. To be completely honest, I've had the worst and longest stretch of writer's block I've ever experienced. My brain went absolutely blank and I couldn't seem to think properly. The words wouldn't come, and I felt like some part of me died. I still haven't gotten it all back yet, but I'm just gonna keep writing. I wish I could say that this chapter will make up for my two year hiatus, but I can't. It's mediocre at best, but I needed to post something.

I owe everyone who has been following this a really deep apology. I never forgot about you, and I really am sorry for neglecting this. I honestly think I stopped posting because I knew the current state of my writing would let you down.

* * *

**\- 17 -**

"So… who wants to tell me what we're looking at?"

"It looks like the plans for an Organic Sweep Cannon." Red replied as he puzzled over the document currently on the screen in front of them, "But something… something's not right."

"That's putting it _mildly_." Tak added casually, "For starters, the kind of power you'd need to make something like _that_ work doesn't exist."

"Why?" Purple asked, "What's different?"

"What _isn't_?" Red answered, "I mean, it's a sweep cannon because it says _Organic Sweep Cannon_ in that corner over there, but… hey, are there any plans for a generator or a power source in there?"

"Maybe if we show the plans to some of the engineers from Vort, it'll trigger the memory of what they were working on." Purple suggested. He couldn't make heads or tails of the information in front of them, but he'd spent enough time learning Red, and it was clear that his partner was deeply disturbed by whatever they were looking at. Even Tak, who was in all reality probably as competent in this area as Red, seemed uneasy, which Purple decided was likely not indicative of a positive thing.

"I hate to interrupt," Tenn began, hiding her nervousness, "but we're running out of time. We only had an hour. We have to get back to the ship." Inside, she was rattling with fear but she managed to keep it out of her voice.

It was at that exact moment that Tenn had a realization. At her wit's end, on the edge of panicked hysteria, she realized how absolutely idiotic it was to carry on in such a state. There was no reason for her to feel like this, and she knew she shouldn't. She couldn't control the knee-jerk emotional response to her near-death experience, but that was all right. No one should be able to shrug something like that off, and it was wrong to hold herself responsible for it. She deserved better than this, feeling like raw nerves scraped against salt.

"Tenn… are you all right?" Purple asked with considerable concern.

"No. I'm farther from "all right" than I've ever been, but you know something? I think I'm okay with that." She still felt like thousands of spiders were crawling underneath her skin and scraping toward the surface, desperate to break out but in spite of that, she felt relief.

"Think you can hold it together until we get back on the ship?" The former Tallest's response was full of concern and empathy.

"Yeah. I can do that."

"I hate to interrupt," Skooge started anxiously, "but Tenn's right. We're _really_ cutting it close on time."

"We haven't even started to make sense of this shit." Red sighed in frustration.

"We will have to take it with us, then." Mei said, paying no mind to Red's resignation, "Tak, I need the microchip out of your biometric override device." She could sense that something was deeply troubling the red-eyed Irken, more so than usual. It was not her place to inquire, and she politely kept her concern to herself. She felt that Purple shared her feelings and trusted that he would know how to confront it properly. She just hoped that they'd address the issue sooner rather than later.

Tak shrugged and handed the microchip over to the Prophetess, who plugged it into the device before again placing her hand to the screen. A frenzy of numbers and symbols flew past until it looked no different than when they first approached the machine. Satisfied, Mei ejected the chip and handed it back to Tak, "Time is short. We must return to the ship."

As much as everyone would have liked to stay and make sense of the information they'd acquired, no one could say they were particularly anxious to spend another second in the void.

"Won't somebody get suspicious about all those dead technicians?" Skooge asked, reminding them of the Irkens who'd suffered a simultaneous brain aneurysm.

Mei responded with a hint of a smile, "What technicians?"

" _Those_ tech – hey… where'd they go?" The former Invader had indeed been gesturing toward the spot on the floor where the bodies of two Irkens had been laying, only to find the surface spotless and the room completely empty. "What'd you do to them?"

"Accelerated decomposition. There is nothing special about it."

"How are we supposed to do something like _that_ without your abilities, Mei?" Red asked directly.

"You're aware that by asking that question you've just said you believe she's absolutely crucial to the success of the entire resistance when you've been arguing relentlessly about how useless she is, and how much we don't need her, right?" His mate pointed out, exposing Red's contradicting opinions.

Red didn't acknowledge of Purple's observation, opting to stare down the Prophetess instead.

"You would have done something much cleverer than I could hope to devise, Red."

The former Tallest's face dropped as he took in a large breath, Purple rolled his eyes, prepared for Red to launch into another argument.

Instead, Mei's voice stopped him before he ever got the chance to make his point, "You would not have killed them. You would have looped the camera feeds and then used knockout gas. Everyone here would have a tranquilizer gun, with sights on every technician, just in case it was not potent enough, but you would have gone for a military-grade compound, so that would not have been a problem. You would have customized the microchip before you left, because your partner would have estimated a worst-case scenario plan in which you did not have sufficient time to examine the data. You'd walk out exactly how you came in, and they would never be the wiser."

When Red's body relaxed and he failed to offer a rebuttal, Mei continued, "You are just as capable, if not _more capable_ than I am. The question is: why don't you believe it?"

Red struggled to formulate a response. Disbelief and confusion clamored in his head and suddenly, he felt uncomfortably claustrophobic. The uncomfortable sensation passed after a short moment that felt far too long for his liking, and was replaced with a jarring realization, "Because if I make the wrong decision, people will die."

"You and your mate knew this better and longer than anyone. You joined this fight with that knowledge."

Red knew what Mei was getting at, and as much as he hated to concede, he couldn't deny that she was right. Yes, he'd been responsible for countless thousands of deaths, but those choices had never really been made of his free will. Whether under duress or mental instability, something _other_ than his rational mind and had been in control of those decisions. Now, however, people he cared about and shared a personal connection with were directly affected by the choices he made and the plans he supported. The situation had too many variables for him to ever really be certain of anything, and that didn't sit very well for someone who craved absolutes.

"…Look, it's nice that you guys are working through your differences and all that, but if it's all the same to you, I'd like to get the hell out of here before we end up stuck or worse." Tak reminded, stepping toward the door. Mei followed her lead, stepping in front of the group and took the lead again, directing everyone to the nearest elevator.

After another ride in awkward silence, they reached the main floor. Mei scanned the path to the exit and quickly discovered the most optimal route. "Purple, you have to remember that once we turn around the third corridor, I'll have to drop the perception shield around you in order for you to sign the ship out. You should not have any trouble. They will not ask for identification."

"Thanks."

Mei's assurance did little to ease Purple's mind, especially now that he knew everyone working at this facility was one of _Them_. He couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at the thought, even though he was still terrified. The guard he'd stood face-to-face with as he signed out the ship when it docked could have been one of the Irkens who'd broken his bones, or held him down, or hurt him in any of the thousands of ways he'd suffered over the years. Worse yet, that Irken could have been the one who gave Red the drug that ravaged his lungs, or burned him with acid, or any of the other horrible things he couldn't save his partner from.

By the time they reached the airlock, Purple was having a difficult time resisting the urge to break the guard's neck and beat him to a bloody pulp, just for good measure. For a moment, he almost thought he would. He wanted to stab him in the eye with the stylus he'd been handed in order to sign the ship back out.

He kept his hand steady with a deep breath and promised himself he'd do it later. The resistance would make their stand eventually, and he believed that now more than ever.

The guard nodded as Purple handed him back the stylus, satisfied with the signature and allowing him to board the ship. Everyone carefully followed behind, protected by Mei's perception shield but holding his or her breath anyway. They knew the mission wouldn't be over until they were back on Malterra. In between then and now was plenty of time for things to go terribly, terribly wrong.

They had thought that surviving the mission would make them feel stronger and more satisfied. It would count as a victory and offer the morale boost they so desperately needed; they hoped it would offer some sort of relief. Standing back on the void ship even after the airlock shut securely behind them, the tension had only grown. It did not dissipate after disembarking and setting a course for Malterra.

Tak sighed, "Well. That was…"

Everyone exchanged glances, hoping to conjure a word that would sufficiently complete Tak's sentence, but were met with shrugs.

"Yeah. Exactly."

"How secure is communication on this ship?" Purple asked, directing his inquiry at Tak.

"I'm running at least six different types of encryption on each channel. We haven't had a chance to completely gut the hardware and replace it with our own, though. I think it's best if we keep transmissions to a minimum. You can use the stealth cruiser's system to reach anyone on the top level of command back at base."

Purple nodded, "Thanks. We should probably check in with the Captain and get the information from Grel to Spleenk as soon as possible. He'll know what to make of it." He turned toward Skooge, "Would you mind taking care of that?"

The request struck Skooge unexpectedly, "Yeah, sure. Why me?"

"You've got the information stored in your Pak. It's probably best if Spleenk gets it directly so we don't leave anything important out. If anyone can figure out how everything connects, it's him."

Skooge would have been lying if he said he wasn't at all worried about the implications of the data they had transcribed from Grel into his Pak. Yes, he was a damn good soldier and he knew it, but this was something so much bigger than one soldier. They would be less likely to use him on the front lines now, since he had something that needed to be protected at all costs. On one hand, that was somewhat reassuring but on the other, it meant he would not be able to contribute as much as he would like.

That information seemed to be weighing differently on everyone. None of them really knew what to do with it, or how to even begin processing it. They all understood it, but right now, it was just a story. It nestled quietly in the back of their minds, waiting to be unwrapped and filed away properly. Now, with the adrenaline wearing off and their "impossible" mission complete, they could feel the threads of that story slowly weaving into their individual consciousnesses.

This was especially true for Red, whose earlier realization had given way to some unpleasant thoughts as he ran through their conversation with Grel in his mind. So many people had placed their trust in him. Hell, the survival of an entire _universe_ depended on him and the more he thought about it, the deeper it ate at him.

"We're going to rest for a bit, if nobody minds." Purple said, gesturing toward his partner. He could easily tell that Red was troubled, and though he already had an idea regarding the source of it, he could tell for certain that it was not something he should let go.

"Actually, I wanted to have another look at the data we got." Red replied, desperately trying to avoid giving a voice to the current concerns he struggled to shove to the back of his mind.

"We need the facility on Malterra to make any sense of it, Red. We all know that. You won't get anything but frustrated with the systems on this ship."

"I want to try."

Purple let out a long, exhausted sigh, "Please, come with me?"

Red wasn't particularly happy with the thoughts he was currently having, and he was even less enthused about sharing them with his partner, which he knew was what Purple wanted. Red also knew that Purple was usually right about things like this, and could see the concern in his mate's face. He stared at the ground and sighed, "All right."

Silence hung heavily, but not awkwardly between them on the walk to the quarters where they'd previously rested. To say that Red was ill at ease would be quite an understatement. With hard eyes, clenched jaw, and rigid posture, the air around him fluctuated between fury and anxiety.

"You're not like him." Purple said, without glancing up from the gloves he was sliding off his hands. "So stop thinking it."

"You don't know what I'm thinking." He replied hotly.

"You were lining up the similarities between you and Gileon. Or Rhaye. Whatever he's called." The violet-eyed Irken responded idly before making eye contact.

"Fuck you."

"You're _not_ like him, Red. Just because you were both POWs doesn't mean you took up a crusade to remake the universe!"

"But didn't I, though?" He asked rhetorically, "Wasn't that _exactly_ what I did? I wiped out whole planets for no reason."

"Well, so did I!"

"There's plenty of blood to go around."

"And you don't think I know that, Red?" Purple replied, calm masking his exhaustion, "You think I don't remember? How many times do we have to have this conversation? We both know that being a POW _wasn't_ what madeyou crazy and it didn't inspire you to go on a universal killing spree." He explained firmly, " _I_ carried you out of that base on Siranah and took care of you until we were able to get off the planet. Do you think I _wasn't_ worried sick over how that situation might have fucked you up? I watched you every day for signs something might be wrong. Even when you lashed out and got upset over it, you were _never_ violent. _That's_ the fundamental difference between you and him. We both did some pretty terrible things and I know you won't ever forgive yourself, just like I won't forgive myself, but, you want to know something, Red?" He finished in a gentle, loving tone as he established eye contact with the other, " _I_ forgive you."

Normally, Red would have argued. He would have demanded a logical explanation from his lover before allowing himself to accept the statement. The brutal honesty in Purple's eyes satisfied any lingering doubts Red might have had about his partner's feelings on the subject.

"…Okay."

Purple smiled, "Are we good?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're good."

* * *

Skooge was greeted by a very apprehensive looking Lard Nar.

"Mission complete, Captain." Skooge reported, "no casualties."

The captain let out a deep breath and appeared visibly relieved, "Were you able to find any useful information?"

"We think so." Skooge replied, "We've got some raw data that we can't quite make sense of, but it does seem to be some kind of weapon. Or weapons."

"With our luck, it's probably somebody's grocery list." Lard Nar commented with a frown.

"I hope not." Skooge replied, "Things would really have to start looking pretty abysmal, like only-six-people-left-in-the-universe to get me to go back into that place." He shuddered.

Lard Nar cringed, imagining a bleak, terrible dungeon, "Do I even want to know what it was like?"

Skooge shrugged, "Lots of white, sterile surfaces. Just didn't feel right. Way too quiet. Full of _Them_."

" _What?!_ " The captain felt his stomach lurch, "Are you _sure_ everyone's ok?" He knew that if Red had been there, he would have called Lard Nar an overprotective mother. He was certain that the red-eyed Irken would not ever have let it go, refusing to call him anything but variations of the word "mother" until one of them died. Nar was also pretty sure that if he were to die first, Red would likely have etched _'beloved mother'_ into some plaque at his burial site. He sighed and wondered if it was a sign of something odd that Red no longer had to be present for Lard Nar to know exactly how the conversation would go.

"Yeah," Skooge confirmed, "I'm just as surprised as you are."

"How's Tenn holding up?"

"She was a disaster when we hijacked the ship but she held herself together in the prison. She did say at one point that she wasn't all right, but she seemed ok with it." He shrugged, unsure of _what_ was going on with his teammate, "I don't know. Something's not right."

The captain nodded, pretty much expecting what Skooge had said.

"There's one other thing, Captain." He said, "We looked into that Grel thing while we were there. We sort of found him. What was left of him, anyway."

The vortian cringed.

"No, not like that." Skooge clarified, waving his hand, "He was just a tank of brain-meats" he explained, "hooked up to machines and wires and who knows what else to keep him alive. Well, 'alive' is kind of debatable. Anyway, Mei did some weird psychic thing so he could talk to us telepathically." Skooge sighed heavily, "He told us about Irk… what it _used_ to be before the Paks and the control brains and _Them_. We copied his data into my Pak so we don't forget to tell Spleenk something that might be important. Also, we've got a bit of an errand to run."

"An errand?"

"It's a bit of a long story… probably best you hear what Grel told us first. We'll brief you when we get back. Have Sally open an extra-secure download channel and I'll send you the information."

Lard Nar nodded, "Great work, Skooge. I mean that."

Skooge nodded, "Over and out."

The captain glanced at his watch and sighed, "Is it all right if I send this to your terminal, Spleenk?"

Spleenk nodded, "Yeah, no problem. Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, it's just stress. But I suppose that's a job requirement."

"Anything I can help with?" Spleek asked carefully, as to not upset or provoke a defensive response from the captain. He knew he should probably stop asking, but concern always got the best of him.

The captain exhaled, "I'll be all right for now. I've got to go… do a thing, but maybe I could see you later? If that's ok?"

Spleenk didn't hide his worry, "Sure, 'Nar. Um, whatever you need."

Lard Nar sighed again and shifted nervously from one foot to the other before shaking his head and giving a frustrated sigh, "I made an appointment with one of the doctors. Like you asked me." He admitted quietly, "I'm not excited about it and this shit is the absolute _last_ thing I want to be thinking about, but I trust your advice, so I'm doing it anyway."

Spleenk gave a relieved sigh and grateful expression, "Thank you. I know how hard it is – I've been there, myself. If you need anything, well, you know. I'm always here."

Lard Nar couldn't understand why Spleenk looked so relieved. The captain was on his way to see a therapist about his ex – who he'd recently slept with, in spite of his feelings for Spleenk, about issues from his past relationship. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that perhaps Spleenk cared more for Lard Nar than he did about getting something _from_ him. The idea never stopped feeling foreign, no matter how many times Spleenk stressed that it was true.

In his experience, the people who promised "to be there for you" usually had less than altruistic reasons for it. Spleenk, though… he was different. He gave every bit of himself, fully knowing that Lard Nar was not ready for a physical relationship, and might not be emotionally ready for longer than that. They had both agreed that someday, they hoped to get to that point together, but Spleenk was in no rush.

He didn't give a voice to the thoughts in his head that repeatedly told him that he could never deserve such an exceptional sort of person, and that he had not earned Spleenk's forgiveness (even though it had already been granted.) Instead, he sighed and took his leave, shuffling awkwardly until he'd left the room.

Spleenk watched the captain depart with equal parts optimism and melancholy. He was so relieved that the captain had _finally_ taken his advice, and that he'd eventually be able to accept whatever had happened in the past and leave it there. He couldn't help but feel disheartened that Lard Nar had suffered in the first place, and he knew that the night would be difficult. Without the luxury of time, the captain would have to face everything quickly as and completely as possible.

Knowing that standing around and worrying obsessively wouldn't yield any helpful results, Spleenk exhaled and headed for his room. He'd go through the information from the recon mission in the Void and try to do something productive to occupy himself until Lard Nar returned.

* * *

Zim and Dib were having little success in planning their rescue mission. It was as difficult as Dib anticipated to get the Irken to stay on-task. They'd been "strategizing" for nearly two hours, and hadn't come up with a single viable option.

Dib sighed, "Zim, for the last time, the meatball idea is not going to work."

"Pffft, I scoff at you, puny human! Watch Zim scoff!"

"Yeah. I see the scoffing. Scoff all you want, meatballs are of no strategic value to this operation."

"Fine. What do you suggest, Cup of Dirt?"

The human shook his head, "Well, Sally can manipulate the logs so coming and going won't look suspicious. If she classifies us as traders picking up cargo we shouldn't have a problem."

"Security's too tight. There's an electromagnetic field in every docking bay so holo-disguises are useless, and they inspect every piece of cargo that comes in and goes out."

"What about dead bodies?"

Zim looked at the human as if he'd lost his mind completely, "How will killing him accomplish the objective of bringing him back alive?"

Dib sighed, "I meant, what if we _pretend_ he's dead."

Zim shook his head in disagreement, "They scan those, too."

"Let me get this straight," the human said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "they inspect dead people?"

"Of course." Zim replied, as if nothing at all was strange about the concept, "Aside from it being a convenient place to stow a criminal, people will try to use bodies for smuggling. They've had to start scanning for life signs, just to make sure it's not a person in cryo or suspended animation. Organ smuggling is pretty big."

Dib cringed, "So they just scoop your insides out, replace them with new ones, and when you arrive, they take you apart again and put your old organs back in?"

"Yeah. That's pretty much it. Why? Is that not normal?"

"…Well, I mean, it makes sense… logically. Just… kind of unnatural."

"Nonsense. Your planet does organ transplants."

"But not like that."

"No, on Earth you just wake up in a seedy hotel bathtub without a liver." Zim retorted.

" _You_ would know that. Didn't you go on an organ-stealing binge once?"

"Nonsense." The alien replied firmly, "Zim would never lower himself to use your planet's inferior organ-stealing techniques. It was Irken technology. And technically, I borrowed them."

Dib found little humor in the Irken's response.

"Oh, relax. I put everything back where I found it. I think."

"Yeah, well, excuse me for not exactly enjoying the idea of having my organs inside you." Dib blinked, realizing what he'd said, "That sounded so wrong."

"Psssh, you should be so lucky! Your feeble human organs would not survive the majesty of Zim's mighty insides!"

"…Sometimes I shouldn't say words." Dib sighed regretfully.

The alien chuckled, "By now, I'd think you would accept the inferiority of your species and bask in my clearly superior Irken intelligence."

"Yeah? This coming from Mr. _shave your giant head of smell with your bad self_?"

Zim pondered Dib's reply for a moment, and shrugged "Idioms."

"Anyway, we're supposed to be strategizing." Dib reminded.

"Right. Could they just meet us somewhere, you know, off-planet?" The alien tried.

"They _can't_ get off the planet without being noticed, Zim. That's why they need us to get them."

"Oh! Well, why didn't you say so?"

"Have you been paying attention at all?" Dib sighed, holding his head in his hands, "This is hopeless."

"Quit whining, Human Filth. Zim has a plan."

"Let me guess. It involves a poultry cannon."

"No! Foolish- hey, a poultry cannon would be kinda neat,"

"Zim!"

"Right. Fine. Killjoy." He muttered with a sigh, "Now, this is gonna sound a little odd, but stick with me."

* * *

"…They want me to _what?!"_ Kaff asked, half shocked, half indignant while Lulu doubled over in laughter.

"Look, we know it's not exactly dignified, but it's the only option we have." Dib explained. "The only people who aren't subject to security checks are ambassadors and theor "private liaisons.""

"Since Dib here is the only one without an identity, as far as the galactic government is concerned, Sally can easily forge the credentials we need to get him cleared. Tauron's government makes tons of money through high-class prostitution, but can't afford to run it legitimately because Irk would immediately cut off all aid."

"If everything works, we should be in and out in no time."

"I believe that this is where humans would add, _that's what she said._ "

"God, Zim, did you really just make a "that's what she said" joke?"

Zim just grinned.

"I gotta say, I wasn't expectin' much, but that's a pretty brilliant idea." Lulu replied, "Any potential complications we ought to look out for?

"We can't let Zim get scanned." Dib explained, "If they find out he's still alive, it could jeopardize…certain people's safety and we can't risk Irk finding out that they're alive."

"As long as he's flying, that won't be a problem."

"You've obviously never flown with him." Dib muttered quietly, earning him an elbow from Zim.

"Wait – wait, _wait_ a second!" Kaff interrupted, thoroughly confused, "Before, when you said "certain people…" did you – I mean, were you talking about who I _think_ you're talking about?"

"Probably." Dib replied.

"I'll explain it to you once we're offline. I know the channels are secure, but I don't wanna take no chances." Lulu said.

His mind boggled for a moment when Lulu's response basically affirmed his assumption. The severity of his current situation became _that_ much more real and immediate. Kaff was perfectly aware of how very wrong everything was and he felt that he'd been doing fairly well for someone whose life had been turned upside down, sideways, and nudged a little to the left. He had managed to come around to Lulu's explanation of things in a rather short time without any severe emotional outbursts or extreme reactions, but this was something different. He thought back to what Lulu had told him about the Tallest having no real power and suddenly felt very disturbed, mostly because he knew that whatever the reasons were, they were probably worse than he could imagine.

"Kaff? Still with us?" Zim asked the visibly perturbed scientist.

"…Mostly."

Lulu delivered a swift remedy upside his head.

"Ok! Ok! Yes, I'm listening!"

"Good." Dib replied, "We'll send you the proper travel documents. They shouldn't have to check your papers at all, but we want you to be prepared just in case. You shouldn't have a problem because we've apparently got great forgers, but don't give them any reasons to get suspicious. Once I get through security, I'll be able to pick you up with no problem."

Lulu cringed. "That's a tall order for Sunbeam over here," she said, "how am I supposed to pass _him_ off as a high-class hooker?"

"The last shred of dignity I have left would prefer if you just called it _liaison_." Kaff replied.

"It means the same thing in this case." She reminded.

"Yeah, but it _sounds_ better."

"Kaff's right, though." Zim interjected, "A companion-liaison is different. Very socially acceptable, you know, if you're any other planet but Irk. They have access to the most exclusive social circles and the most influential people."

"Basically, walk around like you own the place. If you're confident, people are less likely to challenge you."

Lulu groaned, "You didn't mention nothin' 'bout me havin' to get all dressed up."

"Sorry, Lulu." Dib offered, "You need to look the part."

She scoffed, "I liked this plan much more when I thought we were just gonna put Sunbeam in a dress."

"Oh, he still has to wear a dress." Zim reminded.

"You _can't_ be serious!" Kaff cried out in disbelief, "… _Please_ tell me you're not serious."

"They've all seen your face on the news, Kaff. You're gonna have to wear a veil or something."

The scientist desperately tried to think of something, _anything_ else he could do instead, but he knew they were right.

"Aw, cheer up. It ain't _that_ bad. Beats the alternative." Lulu replied, noticeably perkier.

"Easy for you to say."

"Hey, I ain't exactly thrilled 'bout wearin' a dress either."

"Really?" Kaff asked, somewhat surprised, "But you're pretty. What's the problem?"

Conversation immediately came to an abrupt, awkward halt as the three other individuals present stared at the Irken scientist with varying degrees of curiosity.

"What? It's an objective assessment. You've got an aesthetically proportionate bone structure and your height-weight ratio is optimal…." He still hadn't quite gotten the hang of thinking before speaking.

"Thanks, Kaff." Lulu replied with a nod. "So, how long do we have to get this together?"

"As much as we'd like to get you both out of there as fast as possible, Sally's gonna need some time, and you both need to be prepared. Could you handle 36 hours?"

"Yeah. You got a backup plan?"

"Absolutely." Zim replied.

"You wanna share what that might be?"

"I've got a diversion I can use to cause some chaos long enough to get us all out." Zim explained.

"Better be one hell of a distraction." Lulu replied, "Ain't no way I can get my gun into the spaceport without settin' off a hundred different alarms."

"Trust me, Lulu. If there's one thing Zim can do, it's cause a distraction." Dib replied reassuringly, "Take my word for it."

"I don't got much of a choice, do I?" She reminded.

"Call us if you have any questions. We'll be in touch."

Lulu saluted the screen, "Over and out."

When the screen went blank, Dib looked to Zim, "So, were you planning to tell me about this backup plan of yours?"

Zim sighed, "I need to ask Tak for a favor first."

* * *

"Absolutely not!" Tak replied firmly, "Universe only knows what kind of disaster you'll get her into. No. The answer is no."

Zim sighed, "I know you don't like me. I know you're still mad at me. I know I screwed things up pretty badly for you in the past and an apology doesn't make that better. But look at it this way: if none of that ever happened then you wouldn't be where you are now."

"And where's that, Zim?"

"Doing something that matters. If I remember right, _you're_ the one who figured out how the Quantum engine worked. That's a pretty big deal."

Tak appeared to be considering Zim's response, and then shook herself back to rationality, "No."

"You're worried that I'll screw up and destroy Mimi."

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't be."

"Dib will be with me. It's his job to make sure I don't screw up. If I do, you get to cause indescribable agony to us both! GIR is too unpredictable on his own, but he'll listen to Mimi. I swear, she'll come back in one piece. We may not even need her. We _probably_ won't. I'd like to have her, just in case the plan fails."

"No."

"This isn't about me, Tak. Spite me all you want, but we need this scientist. He might be able to develop a vaccine or a cure for Irk's lethal injections. This is about more than us. Would you really damn the universe _and_ our people over a petty rivalry?"

Tak grew rigid and frustrated. She was clearly fighting with herself, and did not look the least bit settled once she'd come to a conclusion. "So help me, Zim, if anything happens to Mimi, I swear, you'll pay."

Zim breathed a sigh of relief, "I promise. Thank you, Tak."

"It's not for you." She reminded.

"Still. Thank you. Over and out."

"I'm impressed, Zim." Dib offered, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"That's because it sounded like something _you_ would say."

Dib pondered this for a moment, "Yeah. Now that you mention it, I guess it did."

"Looks like all those speeches you've made over the years have been good for something."

Dib rolled his eyes.

"Please. You know _I'd_ never say something like _that_. Far too squishy and… _human._ "

Truthfully, Dib was grateful for the banter. Being in constant contact with Zim gave him something else to focus on. He was certain that the enormity of the situation would hit him sometime in the near future and he knew that when it did, the experience would be anything but gentle. He was almost glad that he finally had something to eclipse the damage his father's lies had caused. There was a strange comfort in knowing that his father _wasn't_ his biggest concern or causing him the most grief, and Dib had to say that he found strength in that knowledge.

* * *

Tenn entered the bridge to find Tak wearing an extremely homicidal expression, miming some scenario with her fists that Tenn could only assume translated to extracting swift and brutal vengeance on a very deserving individual. She was about to leave the other Irken female alone with her rage, but after a short moment she decided to stay.

"Everything okay, Tak?"

She grumbled to herself and opened her mouth to speak before promptly closing it. After a few moments of contemplation, she sighed deeply and answered, "No. Not at all."

"I know that feeling. Anything I can do to help?"

Tak sighed in slightly desperate frustration, "I know she's just a SIR unit. Circuits and metal and all that, but Mimi… well, she's the closest thing I really have to a friend - and now _Zim_ ," her voice dripped with distain at the mention of the Irken's name, "wants to get her involved in some plan that's probably _already_ doomed."

"Zim has a knack for staying alive. Look at _his_ SIR unit. If he hasn't managed to utterly destroy that thing yet, dysfunctional and accident-prone as it is, I wouldn't worry about Mimi."

Tak grudgingly acknowledged Tenn's point.

"Must be a pretty dire situation if they're sending Zim." Tenn mused.

"Apparently, one of ours managed to bring in the guy who tested Irk's new death vaccine. They need to move him off world." Tak explained. "One of _ours_. Listen to me." She offered the ghost of a simile and an amused exhale.

"Strange, isn't it? How this odd little group starts to feel like home so quickly."

Tak nodded in agreement and a short, pensive silence fell between them before Tak exhaled heavily, "You ever stop to think about how sincerely fucked up this whole situation is?"

"At first, it was all the time." Tenn replied, "But after a while, you learn to take it piece by piece, one thing at a time, and try not to let the sheer scope of the big picture overwhelm you."

"I'll try to keep that in mind." She exhaled before changing the subject, "So, what happened with you back there?" Tak asked, as delicately as she knew how.

"I got stabbed and almost died in the basement of a Vortian prison." Tenn replied casually. "It happened before you got here."

Tak's eyes widened in shock, "Oh. Wait, is _that_ why you've been training with the sword?"

Tenn nodded.

"Took it off his dead body, didn't you?" She smiled.

Tenn shrugged, "Pulled it out of my gut after I shot his head off."

Tak paused a moment. "Keep in mind I've never said this to anyone before, so I don't say this lightly, but that may very well be the most badass story I've ever heard."

Tenn gave a humorless chuckle, "It certainly didn't feel that way at the time."

"Not used to being anything other than flawless, are you?"

Tenn was surprised, both by what Tak said and that her tone wasn't the slightest bit abrasive.

"What I mean is, you were _always_ the top of the class. The poster girl for what a female Irken soldier should be. I'm sure the whole 'almost dying' bit was freaky, but I bet you're more pissed off that things didn't go perfectly." Tak replied easily.

"…Yeah, I guess."

"Welcome to my life." Tak sighed, "You learn to deal with it."

Tenn suddenly felt completely ridiculous over how badly she'd let the situation get to her after considering Tak's position.

"No, not really." Tak offered, retracting her previous statement, "You just push harder and faster and hope the next victory will eclipse the failure before it."

"That's worked for you?" Tenn asked, genuinely curious.

Tak offered a sort-of smile, "I'll let you know when I start winning."

"Maybe it's not about winning." Tenn sighed thoughtfully.

"What's it about, then?"

Tenn shrugged, "I'll let you know when I figure it out. It sounded pretty good, though, right?"

Tak nodded, "I suppose that's gotta count for something."

* * *

"We better start gettin' you ready. I think it's gonna take a while."

"You're just _loving_ this, aren't you?"

"Of course I am!"

Unable to comprehend Lulu's enthusiasm, he replied, "You have got to be the strangest life form I've ever met."

"Most likely."

"Good. Just checking."

"Oh, right, I almost forgot – your old Tallest ain't dead, by the way." She explained casually, over her shoulder.

Though it confirmed what he'd already suspected, the news still managed to catch him a bit off guard. He stood quietly for a few minutes, processing what Lulu had just told him.

"Come again?"

"The Resistance helped 'em fake their deaths and took 'em in. Those two have been through some kinda hell, Sunbeam," she sighed sadly, "some kinda hell."

"So… if someone else is running everything, what… I mean, what's the point of the Tallest, then?" Kaff asked meekly, his consciousness was almost reluctant to make the connections he could feel happening in the back of his mind.

She shrugged, "Beats me, but I'd bet it's part of a plan. Or maybe they just plain enjoy torturin' folks. Probably both."

"…What?"

"Oh, come on, Sunbeam. I know ya don't wanna think about, but I'm willin' to bet you've been thinkin' that somethin' ain't been right for a long while. Anybody with a brain like yours knows the Irken body don't fit that armor naturally." She tried to sound as sympathetic as she could, "Nobody wants to think about it, but ya _know_ it." She sighed after several long moments passed in silence, "I can leave ya alone to think for a while if ya want."

"No," Kaff's response was immediate, spoken in an uneven tone, sad with terror etched deep underneath, "please, I-I don't…don't leave me alone."

"Listen to you – so _needy_ today." She joked, trying to make the best of a bad situation.

"Hopefully, this time won't end with you punching me in the face."

"In all fairness, ya told me to hit you. Plus, it all worked out for the best, don't ya think?"

"I suppose it did."

This was the first mention of their earlier conversation, and neither of them had yet addressed the fact that they'd fallen asleep together. Since Lulu hadn't panicked or attacked him on instinct when she woke up, Kaff assumed there was nothing to worry about and he really shouldn't be concerned with it. It wasn't as if anything even remotely sexual had happened; they'd both been vulnerable and exhausted and just needed some kind of tangible solace. The concept was so foreign to Kaff, though, that he could think of little else.

"Speakin' of that," she started, "I'd appreciate it if you don't tell no one 'bout my arm."

"Sure thing, Lu. I promise."

"Thank you."

"It's… well, forgive me if I'm talking out of turn, but I think you're looking at that whole thing with your arm the wrong way."

She didn't snarl or roll her eyes like he had expected. Instead, she seemed almost curious, "How's that?"

"It sounds to me like you're ashamed of it; like you think it means you're weak, or something."

"How _should_ I be lookin' at it, Sunbeam?" She asked with her usual degree of skepticism.

"You survived."

She didn't reply, but her expression suggested that he'd gotten her attention.

"What I mean is, you held your ground and fought. You suffered injuries that should have killed you. It's a miracle you're even alive, considering the sheer extent of the physical damage. _Nobody_ should be able to survive that, but _you_ did. Whether you know it or not, when you were lying in that ditch, you decided you were going to live. You could have given up. You had every reason to, but you _didn't_. So, as far as I'm concerned, you're the strongest person I've ever met."

"If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were tryin' to flatter me."

He shook his head, "I'm pretty sure I wouldn't know how to flatter another life-form if I wanted to."

"Eh, it's not a bad thing."

His expression seemed to inquire why she thought so.

"It keeps you honest." She smiled, "Now come on, the clock's tickin' and we gotta find somethin' in your size."

* * *

They arrived at the dock without incident. As soon as Lulu flashed their forged diplomatic papers, the security agent fumbled, flustered for a moment before bowing at her respectfully, "It's an honor, Madam Lu." He bowed toward the disguised Kaff, "Lady Tiresias."

Kaff nodded politely from beneath his veil and followed Lulu's lead. Once they'd been escorted past security, Kaff leaned toward Lulu.

"What name did they call me?"

Lulu shrugged, "No idea. That human kid came up with it."

Kaff nodded and took a deep breath, attempting to relax. He'd almost grown bored when suddenly someone stepped into his field of vision. It took every ounce of will he could summon not to appear startled.

An alien he recognized as a native of Hgrag, an "independent" planet that was essentially owned and operated by Irk for all practical purposes. An attempted invasion discovered in its early stages caused the Irken responsible for the planet to flee. Hgrag's leaders contacted Irk and managed to negotiate a deal. Much like buying a company for its resources and allowing it to keep its original executives, the planet now operated silently under Irk's control.

"Forgive me if I startled you," the Hgrag who was obviously a well-paid government official began, "but you're very striking."

Kaff nodded politely behind his veil.

Lulu took a deep breath and focused on maintaining the accent she'd practiced, "She certainly is. However, she's currently under my employ and our services have already been engaged."

He frowned, "That's unfortunate." He placed a fingertip beneath Lulu's chin, "Perhaps we can arrange something?" He offered, tracing her jaw line.

Kaff burned with inexplicable anger for a moment, wondering idly how this man was still alive.

"I ask that you please remove your hand, unless you'd like to lose it. I am well within my rights to physically discourage you from making any further inappropriate advances. The ambassador will not be pleased."

The Hgrag had withdrawn his hand, but still stared Lulu down angrily. A tense silence burned between them and Kaff was about ready to panic when the security guard who'd let them through earlier intervened.

"Madam, Lady, is this gentleman causing you any distress?"

Lulu breathed a sigh of relief and offered a nod, "Nothing I can't handle, Sir, but I would appreciate it if you could see him out of this area."

The guard nodded dutifully, grabbing the Hgrag by the arm and escorted him out of their sight.

Kaff continued to scowl, even after the alien had been relocated.

"Stop makin' that face." Lulu ordered, "You ain't invisible under there and we don't need to give 'em a reason to think somethin's wrong."

"If I wasn't a wanted criminal right now, he'd be sorry."

Lulu chuckled quietly, "A little jealous, Sunbeam?"

"No," he replied quickly, "just… he shouldn't think he has the right to go touching whoever he wants, whenever he wants to." Kaff explained.

"You're right about that." She offered, finding his obvious jealousy somewhat endearing.

They sat quietly, focused on appearing as normal as possible. Each second that ticked on brought them closer to escape, but it also left them more vulnerable to discovery. All they needed was for one passer-by to stop and realize Kaff was Irken, and that would be the end of it.

Lulu's posture hadn't relaxed since their encounter with the Hgrag, and she remained on alert. Kaff's brain felt like an electrified spiral of barbed wire as they waited, projecting as much calm as they were capable of. He knew that if things went bad, there would be no hope for escape. Neither of them said it, but they both understood that even if Zim lived up to his indestructible, escape-artist reputation, he wouldn't be able to get them all out in the worst-case scenario.

Lulu felt wrong. She was as good as naked without a gun, and whatever fancy-ass contraption of a dress she was wearing would be useless if she had to make a run for it. She'd already counted the number of exits she estimated she could reach if worst came to worst (there were three), but none of them would be available because Kaff's safety had to be her first priority. While she wasn't generally thrilled about the idea of taking a hit for someone, she decided that there were much worse people she could have been asked to protect.

"Listen to me, Sunbeam, if shit gets bad, ya need to find your way back to base." She explained in a voice barely above a whisper, "There's an old mining tunnel 'bout a mile or so southeast of this port. Ya hide there till someone comes ta get ya. Don't leave with _nobody_ 'til they tell ya the code. Police won't usually search there, but on the chance they're lookin' for ya, they might, so you gotta hide good. Once my people hear 'bout shit goin' down at the spaceport, they'll come lookin'."

"Lulu, I _really_ don't like what you're implying."

"Ya ain't usually very good at readin' between the lines."

The joke fell flat and Kaff looked at her with serious eyes from behind the veil over his face, "I won't leave without you."

"It's hard to take anything ya say seriously in that getup."

Kaff's expression didn't change, "I mean it."

"Don't be a damn fool. Ya hardly even know me and ya certainly don't owe me nothin'."

"You're my friend. I won't leave you."

"Don't be a stubborn ass!" She chided as quietly as she could, "If ya throw your life away here, your people are gonna die. Could ya really let that happen?"

Kaff pondered the question seriously for several long moments. "Maybe."

Lulu looked shocked, "What?"

"If you asked me this morning, I'd have told you that I understood. The lives of the many outweigh the few and all that. Right now, though, I'm thinking quality over quantity. Is it really worthwhile to save my people so they can have a bigger army to try and kill us? Is that situation worth sacrificing the only friend I have in the entire _universe_? Let me tell you something, Lu: it's not."

It was Lulu's turn to be silent as she thought heavily over Kaff's response. She was oddly flattered, despite being miles outside her comfort zone. She had a knack for survival, and until the Vortian Riots, it was something she just expected. She hadn't been directly involved in any real life-threatening conflicts since, but not because she was afraid of dying. She always felt that the limitations of her condition made her more of a liability than an asset, and she refused to endanger the lives of others in some misguided attempt to live up to an ideal that she physically couldn't.

Kaff saw the situation differently. Her disability was an asset, like some kind of battle scar that said, _"that's right, I survived a fucking plasma cannon. What are_ you _gonna do about it"_ to the enemy. She imagined herself for a moment as a half-cyborg with an eye patch, her scars glowing an angry red beneath her skin as she wielded some sort of gatling gun and did her very best not to laugh.

"All right, Sunbeam," she replied, "but let's hope it don't come to that."

* * *

Dib paced nervously as they approached the dock. He hoped the plan would go right. He had run over it thousands of times in his head, prepared for every possible situation that could possibly be thrown at him, and even though he felt prepared, he couldn't shake the nervousness.

He was being trusted with the lives of two others, in addition to Zim. Not that Dib was terribly worried about Zim, as he'd made every effort to minimize the Irken's direct involvement for Zim's safety, and those around him. Though he hadn't said anything and Dib doubted that the alien would, he could tell that Zim was on edge. Whether it was nerves or worry, he could definitely sense the anxiety coming from the alien.

Dib couldn't really blame him, though. Zim had only recently been made painfully aware of his failures, and he guessed that knowledge did nothing to ease Zim's mind. He wished Zim would make fun of him, or call him another ridiculous name, or something, anything to put him at ease. The silence between them was far too tense and serious for Dib to handle at the moment.

"So, what's the plan if things go bad?" Dib asked. He already knew, but the silence was getting to him.

"Mimi and Gir are gonna run interference with security so you and the target can slip away." Zim answered tersely. "Don't tell me you forgot already. _I'm_ supposed to be the inept one around here."

Dib sighed, "You're _not_ inept. You _used to be_ careless, but things have changed."

Zim scowled, "You don't know that."

"I think _I_ know that better than anyone." Dib replied, "You think we plotted against each other for three years and I didn't bother to notice when and why your plans failed?"

Zim shrugged.

"You were self-absorbed and careless. Since you're here, on a mission with the goal of helping other people, I think it's safe to say there's a fundamental difference in your attitude and motivations."

"Yeah, well, what do you know, ridiculous Pig-Smelly."

Dib was visibly grateful, "You know, I don't think I've ever been _glad_ to hear you make fun of me before."

"If you were from a more evolved species, you'd have learned to enjoy it by now."

"Hilarious. It must be a burden to be such a comedian." Dib replied dryly.

"Dreadful, really. Is your communicator on?"

"Not yet." Dib replied, "Since I'm sitting next to you, and all."

"Well don't forget to turn it on before you head out. Zim will need to know if a distraction is necessary."

"Gotcha." Dib turned to the "female" SIR unit currently occupied with the shuttle's control panel, "How's everything looking, Mimi?"

"All systems secure." She replied.

"And you'll be able to tell if they bug the shuttle?"

Mimi nodded, as if she felt Dib were insulting her intelligence, "I am currently interfacing _directly_ with this ship's systems. Any attempts to hack our systems will be shut down immediately."

Dib turned his attention to GIR, who was quieter and calmer than Dib had ever seen him. "Is GIR all right?"

"I have put him into 'standby mode'." Mimi replied.

"He doesn't _have_ a 'standby mode'." Zim explained.

"Really?" Mimi asked, "All _I_ had to do was ask."

Zim narrowed his eyes, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Immensely." Mimi answered with a small smile.

Zim sighed and shook his head as Dib chuckled quietly.

* * *

The small shuttle docked and Dib took a deep breath before conjuring the best façade of righteous imperviousness that he could. As expected, he was greeted by a throng of security, at whom he smiled and flashed his forged diplomatic papers. They scanned him for weapons and took a biosignature before allowing him into the waiting area.

"If you don't mind my asking, Sir, are you… ah…"

"New in town?" Dib finished congenially.

The guard looked relieved as he nodded.

Dib smiled warmly, "Yes. _Very_ new. The first of my kind, actually. My planet's been making some contacts over the last few years; picking up information, and all that. Finally decided to do some field research, sorting potential allies from less-suitable ones, getting to know the galaxy… we're a cautious race, my people. We like to know what we're getting into before we make any alliances. We like to know where we stand."

" _If only your filthy race was really that smart."_ Zim commented through the earpiece Dib wore. The human did not appear at all distracted.

"An excellent philosophy, Sir."

Dib nodded, "Thank you."

"Do you mind if I ask what your business on Tauron is, Ambassador?"

Dib chuckled, "No business today, just pleasure, gentlemen."

Dib heard Zim groan in his earpiece, _"Ugh, you could be a politician."_

Dib did his best to ignore Zim's voice, "I hate to be so brief, but I've got two of the most exclusive liaisons in the galaxy waiting to board my shuttle, and I'd hate to make a bad first impression on a pair of such refined women."

The guards exchanged knowing smiles and nods of approval with Dib before one of them left to escort Lulu and Kaff.

Dib greeted them politely, bowing his head respectfully toward each of them and gesturing for them to board the shuttle. Lulu made sure Kaff walked ahead of her, refusing to exhale until she crossed the threshold of the airlock into the shuttle.

Dib sighed as well, a relieved smile forming on his face, "I appreciate your discretion, gentlemen, and I certainly won't forget it when I report back home."

The boy hadn't ever regarded himself as being very capable with words, let alone much of a charmer, and he couldn't help but feel satisfied that these two security guards were eating out of his hand. Dib offered the guards a handshake, and had nearly boarded the shuttle when an urgent-sounding voice called after him.

"Excuse me, Ambassador!"

Dib fought the urge to cringe and turned around, "Yes?"

"Your ship is unregistered."

Dib nodded as if the security administrator was not the brightest proverbial crayon in the box, "Of course not."

The security administrator looked completely puzzled and little bit suspicious, "I don't follow, Sir. If you'll just come with me, there are a few questions I need to ask."

" _Just say the word. Mimi and GIR are ready to go."_

Dib gave a polite smile and an assuring shake of his head, kindly throwing an arm around the administrator's shoulder as he leaned in to address the alien personally, "You've heard about the 'issues' Irk's been having with that terrorist group, correct?"

The administrator nodded, "Good, so you know that their military research facility on Vort was completely wiped out. Do you really think a galactic superpower like that would turn down the six new planet-size facilities my people have given them?"

"I haven't heard anything about,"

"And you won't." Dib assured, "After what happened on Vort, do you think they're going to compromise any more of their military development? Irk's silence and my people's freedom cost us nearly an entire solar system. Being the arbiter of the transaction, they gave me this fine piece of Irken equipment."

The administrator seemed to buy it before his face clouded, "You can fly an _Irken_ shuttle?"

Dib laughed, "Of course not, friend. A service drone pilot came with it."

" _I'm gonna lock GIR in your closet all night for that comment, Dib."_ In the background, he could hear GIR squeal, _"I'm gonna have a sleepover with Big Head Boy!"_

The administrator smiled, totally satisfied. "Well, that answers my question about the Irken life form we got on the scan. I'll wipe the logs of your arrival and departure, as a courtesy. I apologize for the inconvenience. Have a fine day, and I hope we'll be seeing you again."

Dib grinned, shaking the man's hand, "I'm grateful, Sir. Thank you for your time."

Dib let out a long, disbelieving sigh as he entered the shuttle and quickly closed the door behind him.

"Status?" He asked, leaning his back against the cool metal wall of the shuttle.

"Three bugs and five trace signals detected five minutes ago. The bugs are dead and the trace signals failed. Stealth systems engaged." Mimi reported, "We're running silent."

"Good. Contact Sally and have her run a second scan, just to be sure."

"Already done."

"The second scan was _Zim's_ idea!" the Irken's voice proclaimed enthusiastically.

Dib cringed at the unexpected loudness, removing the earpiece, "Great work, Zim. Now let's get the hell out of here."

Dib felt the shuttle disengage and relief flooded his senses as the ship took off smoothly. He pressed off the wall and found Lulu and Kaff waiting.

He took a seat and indicated for them to do the same, "Sorry about that. They try to bug and track the diplomats ships sometimes."

"Why would they do that?" Kaff asked.

"Think real hard 'bout that, Sunbeam. What do most diplomats leave Tauron with?"

"…Liasons?" Kaff tried.

"Exactly."

It took a short moment for Kaff to figure out what Lulu was implying, "Ew!" He cringed, "That's gross! Who would want to watch that?!"

"Probably makes for good blackmail, too." Dib offered.

"So we're safe now?" Lulu asked. "Nobody's trackin' us?"

"The bugs are dead and we're scrambling our signal, so they couldn't if they wanted to."

Both new passengers seemed infinitely more relaxed.

"Does that mean I can get changed now?" Kaff asked hopefully.

"I dunno, Sunbeam, I think that getup does somethin' for ya." Lulu teased.

Kaff just rolled his eyes, as he'd become used to Lulu's comments by now.

Dib nodded, "Sure. There's a spare set of Irken fatigues in the locker to your left. We didn't have much for you, Lulu, and we weren't sure about sizes, so the best we could do is a bathrobe."

Lulu frowned in response.

"I know it's not the most tactical article of clothing, but it's comfortable." Dib offered.

She sighed, "I ain't in a position to complain, kid."

Dib smiled, "Good. I'm gonna head to the cockpit and contact the captain. If you need anything, we've got some snacks in that cabinet," he said, pointing, "and we should only be a few hours out from Malterra."

"Hours? Hate to break it to ya, kid, but we're _way_ farther than that." Lulu replied.

"Not with a quantum engine."

"You figured out the Quantum Engine?!" Kaff asked excitedly, "I heard there was a working model, but I didn't believe it!"

"Well, ya made _his_ day." Lulu chuckled.

"You're welcome to wander up there if you want. It's a small shuttle, but we've got an army cot in the corner over there if you need it. Let me know if there's anything I can do for you."

"Will do, kid. I think we just need to relax some."

"Thanks for the rescue." Kaff offered.

"Glad we could help." Dib replied before standing up and heading for the cockpit.

* * *

**A/N:** Like I said... certainly not the finest chapter in this saga. It still feels too segmented, unfocused, and distant to me, but hey, at least it's up. Wish i could've done better. Not enough character development.

**Random Note:** Tiresias was a figure in greek mythology who was a man Zeus (I believe) turned into a woman, and then later back into a man. I found this amusing. I'm such a history nerd.


	18. Chapter 18

**\- 18 -**

Mei breathed deeply and struggled to keep her teammates' thoughts out of her mind, but they continued to leak into her consciousness in spite of her best efforts. She wanted to contact her people but she dreaded their opinion of her. Would they even recognize her? Could they accept her, after she'd defied the Divine Mistress and unintentionally brought so much pain to Grel? Not brave enough to reach out yet, Mei closed her eyes and allowed the energy of the ship to wash over her.

Skoodge worried over the potential repercussions of bearing Grel's message. He thought about how, not very long ago, he'd known nothing about any of this. Things had changed so quickly. Now that his mind was no longer focused on an immediate goal, he reflected for a moment on just how drastic that change had been. His life had turned a sharp corner, and now it was difficult to remember that all the steps before it were just as much a part of him as his current situation.

When he'd first heard the news of Red and Purple's "demise," Skoodge had felt relief and joy swell in his chest. He'd truly believed the two had been fostering some perverse vendetta against him since childhood, and that without them in power, he would finally get the respect he had earned. He was deeply ashamed in the present of having felt such things. He reminded himself that there was no way he could have known what they were going through… what they'd _been_ going through, while he whined about the praise and recognition he had felt Red and Purple owed him.

If they'd done what he wanted and made him the poster boy for Irken conquest, Skoodge knew he would've been the first one in line for those "growth vaccines." Though it hadn't been their intention, they'd saved his life.

Mei began to feel intrusive and distanced herself from Skoodge's thoughts and allowed herself to drift again.

Tenn was beginning to develop a hesitant camaraderie with Tak, in spite of her initial worries. She was eager to return to Malterra and take Spleenk up on his offer. She wanted to be Chief of Security, and she knew she could do with a few therapy sessions. Tak had been right; more than anything, she'd been ashamed that she'd failed her mission on Vort, and deep down, she knew _that_ was what held her back. Tak's insights both surprised and puzzled her.

Tak was deeply concerned for her SIR unit's safety, alternately cursing Zim and Dib as she tried and failed to wait patiently for some news. Though still not totally settled in to her place with the resistance, she was finding it much easier than she'd originally guessed. The respect she'd already earned from those around her was probably no small factor in the ease of her transition; Tak had never really "fit" anywhere, and the concept of trust was something she understood but could never put into practice. These people trusted her, though, and she felt a strong obligation prove herself worthy of it.

Buir was fairly quiet, though Mei could tell he was still troubled by the mention of her death. She felt a pang of something, a combination of guilt and admiration, maybe as his thoughts floated through her mind.

She did her best to keep herself from picking up Red and Purple's thoughts, but they felt so strongly it was difficult ignore. Still, she made the extra effort and erected whatever mental barriers she could to give them the privacy they deserved.

She hoped they would understand that she really wanted nothing but the best for them. She wanted them to live and love until their happy years far outnumbered the ones they'd suffered. It was unlikely, but she knew it was possible and she was willing to give her life if doing so would permit them that chance.

_Red's expression burned angrier than she'd ever seen. She wished she could tell him why he couldn't be there, that the circumstances of the mission would allow her to save only one of them, and it had to be Purple. She wanted to tell him that this was the only way they could both survive in the long run. It took everything she had not to confess that the future wasn't fair and Red would need to trust Purple in spite of the promise she knew he would have to break; Red would nearly lose his mind with grief and worry, but they would survive and it would be all right. More than anything, she wanted him to know that for someone so gifted with a sight for the proverbial "big picture," he was being an idiot._

She sighed and shook herself from her trance. Though she was rarely able to "glimpse" the future, it happened much more frequently in the Void. She wished she could tell them what she knew, not just Red and Purple, but the entire crew. She wanted to prepare them for what was to come, but she also had to protect them. In the case of the two former Irken leaders, she knew that regardless of the small progress they'd made on their last mission toward establishing a fragile trust, Red would not believe her. He would likely defy her instructions and ignore her warnings out of spite, much like she, herself, had done in the past. Red would resent her for withholding information, but she hoped that in time he would understand.

She knew she was going to die, and she accepted that fact with dignity. She never questioned her choice or resented the sacrifice that was required of her, but she'd grown rather used to living and she'd admit that the thought of suddenly not doing it anymore was a little strange. She knew there was so much beyond the physical form and she'd waited so long for the chance to explore it, but she couldn't help but wonder if she'd deprived herself of ever really experiencing life.

She sighed. It was time to reach out to her people.

* * *

It hadn't taken long for Red to fall asleep. Purple was hardly surprised, considering the stress of the mission and the intense emotional discussions that came before and after it. He was grateful that Red had found some sort of peace under the circumstances, and quietly hoped that maybe his partner would finally begin to let go of the self-directed anger and hate he'd carried for so long.

Purple was able to find neither solace nor exhaustion, and so he laid awake as various thoughts buzzed in his mind. He knew that whatever the data they'd stolen from the void contained, it wouldn't be good. It would probably be more soul-crushingly enormous and destructive than he anything he could ever hope to dream up in the darkest, most brutal corner of his mind. They had been lucky so far, and Purple could only guess (somewhat bitterly) that Fate had finally realized she was a shitty bookkeeper, and owed them some long-overdue karma.

Even so, karma and luck were unpredictable, and cruel in such a way that as soon as one began to depend on their intervention, they were nowhere to be found. Purple had accepted that fact a long time ago, and had tried in spite of the painfully overwhelming odds to carve out a small piece of happiness for he and Red. Now that their fragile attempt at happiness was in jeopardy, Purple couldn't help feeling anxious and somewhat reactive. Though they'd only been on Malterra for a month or so, the lack of immediate threats to both he and his partner had made him comfortable there, and he hated that the peace they'd enjoyed would soon be broken. Their trip to the Void reminded him all too well of what they were facing. He would admit that he did feel a small, slightly smug sense of superiority knowing that the resistance had successfully infiltrated the most terrifying stronghold in the known universe; however, it had been a rather unwelcome reality check.

Eventually Irk would do _something_ , and they'd have to respond. He knew the truth; war was inevitable. The resistance was fewer in numbers and resources, and both sides were just as dedicated to their individual missions.

He sighed and turned his eyes toward Red, taking in the sight of his mate's face, he couldn't suppress the small smile that formed on his lips. His thoughts dissolved as he let out a long, heavy breath. Suddenly, Purple felt that even if the entire universe came at him with every last ounce of firepower, he would hold his ground.

* * *

Spleenk sighed and stared at the computer screen. Under normal circumstances, he'd have been excited and motivated to piece together the new information they'd gotten from Grel. Instead, he found his thoughts constantly drifting to Lard Nar and whether or not he was all right. He wondered what, if anything, he could do to make Nar feel safe after his first counseling session.

"For the sake of the ancestors, Spleenk, you used to do this for a living! You are a trained professional who's fully capable of handling the situation!" He said to himself and sighed in frustration. While that was true, Spleenk had always played the role of the doctor and he couldn't remember a single time when he'd been asked to play the role of the friend. He'd had friends in the past, but no one ever sought out his support for something this serious. He wondered if being a shrink made his friends somewhat reluctant to trust him with personal issues.

Whether or not the latter was true didn't matter. There was no way he could know how Nar's session was going or what kind of mood he'd be in when he came by later. Spleenk trusted the captain wouldn't blow him off without letting him know first. Then again, Spleenk couldn't be sure if Nar would be in one of his "I'm going to try to make you hate me because I'm not worth it" mindsets. Well, he could always page 'Nar, if he had to. Spleenk felt a small degree of relief knowing that there were few places the captain could actually sequester himself long enough to do anything destructive before someone on the base needed his attention.

Spleenk sighed and resolved to let Nar decide what he needed. Spleenk would be as supportive and helpful as he could. He wouldn't pry. If 'Nar wanted to talk, Spleenk would listen. If he didn't, Spleenk was fine with that, too.

Feeling somewhat more confident, Spleenk revisited the information Skoodge had sent them and began compiling the data into a timeline and taking notes, trying to create an accurate profile for the Rhaye/Gileon character Grel had claimed was the center of their current mess.

He hoped that the data recovered from the Void mainframe would somehow connect to what they'd gotten from Grel. He knew that while Isis, if she had indeed survived this long in cryo, would be helpful filling in the historical gaps, she wouldn't exactly be up to date with current events.

At least he knew it was _her_ name that had "disappeared" from the Intergalactic Guild of Scientific Achievement's database. He puzzled over that for a moment. Erasing her name wasn't part of covering Their asses. No one would know who she was, and there was no one left alive that would remember her. It struck him as odd that they would bother to go that far just to get rid of her name.

Spleenk frowned. He didn't like to draw conclusions without all the information, but it was possible that Rhaye/Gileon had simply done it out of spite. Considering his obsession with the Pak, it was strange that the man _hadn't_ revered her. Spleek would have expected a person obsessed with an invention to such an extreme degree would be as equally obsessed with its creator.

Clearly, Isis and Gileon saw the potential for the Pak very differently. Isis wanted to limit its use and it seemed that Gileon had planned to manipulate it from the beginning.

"He'd need to know that it _could_ be manipulated the way he wanted in the first place." Spleenk mused aloud. Everything he did was so specific; he _had_ to know what it was capable of.

Something was still missing. Rhaye had taken on a new name when he got into politics; Grel had assumed it was a campaign tactic, but that explanation didn't sit right with Spleenk. As a surviving POW in a high-stakes war, he would've had the immediate support of the military and encountered much less resistance from elected officials. If he'd intended to get into politics, it didn't make sense that he'd wait ten to twelve _years_ before doing it. Somewhere between the Nahdari conflict and Gileon's emergence as a public figure, _something_ happened, and Spleenk felt confident it had to be the trigger for Rhaye's transformation.

* * *

Earlier, Phthalo had found himself genuinely looking forward to the end of the day. Having retired to his room for the night, though, he found himself an odd combination of nerves and anxiety. There was a constant nagging at the back of his mind, asking if he'd imagined everything between himself and Cyanine. His train of thought was interrupted by a knock he recognized as belonging to his co-leader, and he exhaled deeply before opening the door.

"Hey. I wasn't sure if you still wanted to hang out, so," Cyanine inhaled nervously, "here I am."

"Come in, Cy."

The other Irken breathed a sigh of relief and returned Phthalo's smile. "Thanks."

"I was worried about the same thing before you showed up." Phthalo admitted, "Started wondering if maybe I'd been imagining, you know… everything that's been going on with us."

Cyanine was visibly relieved. "I was worried about that, too."

The other Irken let out a deflated exhale, "It's almost funny. We were so close last night and a day later, we can't figure out if it was real or not."

"It was real for me." Cyanine offered quietly.

Phthalo met the other's eyes, "For me, too."

Neither of them really knew what to do next, so they shared a comfortable silence and a soft smile before Cyanine reached out and took Phthalo's hand. "Are you hungry?"

"I was kind of hoping we could just stay in tonight. I've got snacks and stuff."

"Sounds great. Do you want to watch another vid, or something?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Any suggestions?"

Honestly, Phthalo couldn't have cared less. He'd watch a single shot of a mayonnaise jar on loop for ten hours if it meant that Cyanine would be there the whole time. Doing his best to hide the faint blush his previous thought conjured, he replied, "We could just pick something random."

Smiling, Cyanine nodded in agreement. Though he knew that getting closer made them more vulnerable, he had come to realize that in a strange way, it made them stronger at the same time. It did not give he and Phthalo any advantage over _them_ , but it made coping with the demands of their position less overwhelming. He could feel as awful and wretched as he needed to, but he wouldn't have to do it alone, and he was surprised at the incredible difference it made. He still felt terrible and he doubted he'd ever stop hating himself for carrying out orders, but knowing that someone cared for him in spite of what he'd done had certainly helped ease the self-loathing.

His initial decision had been to avoid forming any kind of bond or trust with Phthalo, which stemmed from two basic reasons. Firstly, he'd hoped that if They saw hurting the blue-eyed Irken had no real affect on him, They'd leave Phthalo alone. Of course, it hadn't taken him long to realize that their response would have been to assess which one was more useful, and just kill the other. The second factor that influenced his original opinion was the fact that he found his co-leader quite attractive. This had been a frightening realization at first, and he made every effort to repel Phthalo because of it.

Though Irkens did not have a word for it, Cyanine had felt a great deal of empathy for his co-leader when Phathlo had unintentionally broken down in front of him. Instead of leaving him alone, Cyanine had been impelled to assist him in whatever way he could. It was a considerable relief to learn that he was not alone in how he coped (or rather, failed to cope) with their situation.

He knew that other species were able to find emotional solace through physical closeness or comfort, but he hadn't understood it until he'd reached out in an effort to help Phthalo. He felt a kind of calm unlike anything he'd experienced. After the blue-eyed Irken had responded positively to the gesture, he felt truly important. Though _they_ constantly made him feel worthless and insignificant, Phthalo had made him feel capable and significant.

He was surprised at how quickly these emotions had revealed his hidden fondness for Phthalo, but he hadn't fought against it. Whatever it was, wherever they were heading, they would get there together.

* * *

Mei had never felt anything quite like what she experienced the moment her mind finally touched her people. She'd only ever known it secondhand, as the result of someone else's emotional reaction – never her own. They welcomed her warmly, with love and kindness she hadn't felt deserving of until they had convinced her otherwise. She recognized their energies, every single one of them; it was like coming home after a long and unwanted separation. She was overwhelmed with joy and gratitude, and an unexpected appreciation and forgiveness for the previous Divine Mistress she had resented for so long.

They didn't speak in language, but she understood everything.

* * *

Consciousness returned to Red gradually as he felt himself easing out of sleep. The mission had taken a much more extensive toll on him than he'd previously suspected. Finally opening his eyes, Red was somewhat surprised to find Purple wide-awake beside him.

"You ok, Pur?"

Purple turned his face toward Red, "Just thinking."

"About what?"

Purple let out a long sigh, reorienting his gaze to stare up at the ceiling, "Everything."

"Could you be a bit more specific?" Red asked, "Or at least, give me a place to start."

"I started thinking about what happens next, you know, after we get back. It's not gonna be easy, and we'll have to deal with whatever we found in the Void. Then I kind of jumped ahead a bit. Assuming we make it through all this, what happens? Say we do win. We take Irk down, and then what? How do we deal with that?"

"A week-long mandatory holiday with copious amounts of alcohol and some smoke machines?" Red tried.

"What, no lasers?" It was a weak attempt at returning the joke, and Red acknowledged it.

"Why worry about it now, Pur?"

"Even if we get rid of every single one of those assholes, there will still be an entire planet with the mentality They've created. They won't welcome the change. They'll hate us. Form their own rebellion."

Red hadn't really considered things that far down the line. He'd been planning the war, but had not yet started guessing about the concerns that might rise from the aftermath. "That's assuming the worst. Just look at Tenn and Tak, or even Skoodge. They were all pretty as hardcore Irken as it gets and they're on our side now. I think most of the drones know there's something fundamentally wrong with the way Irk does things. There's way more of them then there are diehard-Irken-supremacy types. It might not be as bad as you think." Red took Purple's hand and looked at him seriously, "We'll figure it out. All of us. Let's just worry about getting there first."

Purple's expression eased considerably and he looked infinitely more relaxed, "Thanks. I needed that."

"Well, you have to admit, I'm pretty good at giving you _exactly_ what you need."

Purple couldn't help but grin, "Aren't you just?"

Red's hand released Purple's, moving to cradle his cheek instead, gently urging his face closer to Red's, "I like to think so." He said, kissing Purple's mouth.

Purple hadn't realized how eager he was to receive the gesture; all the stress and uncertainty melted away as he found familiar comfort in his partner. Red never failed to ignite a spark in Purple when they kissed, and he found himself responding eagerly even before he'd noticed it consciously.

"If I remember correctly," Red began innocently, "you promised something about screwing my brains out prior to our excursion in the Void."

"And you'd like to take me up on that, would you?"

"If the offer's still available." Red replied.

"It's _always_ available, Red."

The red-eyed Irken smiled deviously, "You sure it's not a mistake telling me that?"

Purple quickly positioned himself on top of Red, "Would I have said it otherwise?"

* * *

A series of slightly hesitant knocks removed Spleenk from his thoughts. Taking a deep breath, he mentally reassured himself and greeted Lard Nar before inviting him in. Nar entered and Spleenk closed the door behind them, and though the atmosphere felt somewhat awkward as they settled into chairs opposite each other, it was not a dreadful or heavy.

"So," Lard Nar began, taking a deep breath, "you were right. As usual."

Spleenk gave a slightly relieved smile. "Nah. It just seems like I'm right all the time because I made most of the wrong decisions before you knew me."

"I don't know _how_ you did it, Spleenk." The captain exhaled heavily, "After everything you've been through… when did it get better?"

"It's not the answer you're looking for, but it was a gradual thing. I had some ups and downs during my recovery, but once I settled into a routine and stopped feeling like I needed to punish myself, things improved much faster." Spleenk explained, "I can't tell you how long it'll take, but I can promise to be there."

Lard Nar appeared relieved, "Thank you. For everything, Spleenk. I really mean that."

Spleenk gave a smile and comfortable silence settled between them until Spleenk began to fidget and Lard Nar could tell he wanted to say something.

"So, I told you, um, I told you about Senna, my daughter, a while ago. I-I found her picture, and I thought that maybe… I don't know,"

"I'd love to see it, Spleenk." Lard Nar answered softly.

Spleenk displayed a grateful expression and, though his body language was tense, he held out a small photo screen to Lard Nar. The Vortian was careful to hold it as delicately as he could as his eyes took in the image.

She was certainly Spleenk's daughter; there could be no question about that. She had softer, more feminine features with vibrant eyes and a radiant smile, and an atmosphere that proclaimed her invincibility. She was maybe ten years old in the image, and Lard Nar could only imagine how beautiful she might have grown to be.

"I bet you had field day when she started dating."

"I threw a pulse cartridge at her first boyfriend." Spleenk replied nostalgically.

Lard Nar chuckled, "What for?"

"Told him the next one was coming faster."

Lard Nar couldn't help but laugh at the scene Spleenk had created in his mind, "Dear Vort, that poor kid must've pissed himself!"

"Nah. He just fainted."

The captain held his stomach as he doubled over in uncontrollable laughter. It felt so good to laugh like this.

Spleenk smiled, though not at the memory. It was amusing enough, but talking about Senna was still incredibly difficult. He'd come to accept that she was gone and he remembered her fondly, but he usually tried not to dig any deeper than necessary. Still, Spleenk knew he needed to connect with Lard Nar in a meaningful way, and he hoped that the gesture would help the other trust him. He knew how emotionally raw the other likely was after such an intense therapy session, and wanted to make it as easy on Nar as was possible.

Lard Nar finally stopped laughing and a more grateful smile settled on his lips as he looked from the picture in his hands to Spleenk, finally understanding. He tried to form an adequate response and failed several times.

Spleenk exhaled and tried to smile, "Yeah, it was hard for me. But it helped you, so I'm glad."

Lard Nar took a moment to collect his thoughts before he finally spoke, "I don't think I ever really got properly angry at him for the way he left. It was so unexpected, I just… he never gave me a reason for why he was leaving; he just said he needed some space to find himself. I didn't expect him to completely cut off contact with me… I thought we'd have a chance to talk things through once he sorted himself out, so I waited. And after a month or so, I got worried. I tried to call him, just to see how he was, and he'd had the number disconnected." Lard Nar explained, only making occasional, brief eye contact with Spleenk, "I should've been mad, but I didn't want to blame him because everything in our relationship was always my fault, so I blamed myself. It's kind of embarrassing to think I was _that_ pathetic, but" he sighed, "I'm dealing with it."

"The important thing is that you recognize that it _wasn_ ' _t_ always your fault." Spleenk sighed evenly, "I don't know whether you realize it or not, but you're pretty damn capable. _Nobody_ else could've organized this. Others have tried and failed to do what you're doing now. Just look at how many races you've brought together to fight for _each other_. No matter how much they may disagree or how big the tantrum, your word is what goes. Shit, because of _you_ , we might actually save the universe."

Lard Nar had never really put things in such a perspective before. He saw the parts of the whole but never thought about how the ratios of those parts actually affected the composition. He'd just assumed his shortcomings vastly overshadowed his strengths and carried on. In reality, Owaiin was so small compared to the size of things that really mattered; the captain couldn't understand why he hadn't been able to see that before. Lard Nar had found a rare moment of perfect clarity in which he truly saw himself honestly, and realized there was nothing to be ashamed of. He was not without his flaws, but he was not defined by them.

"…Let's pretend it didn't take me _this_ long to realize that." Lard Nar replied with a smile.

Spleenk gladly returned the gesture, relieved to see genuine understanding in the other's eyes. "I won't tell if you don't."

* * *

Cyanine hadn't bothered with the pretense of sitting at the opposite end of the couch. He sat close, allowing his head to rest against Phthalo's shoulder. Phthalo still couldn't help the brief surprise he felt at the contact, but this time he felt more excitement than fear.

"Should I move my arm?" He asked.

"Only if you want to."

Phathlo shook his head with a smile and repositioned his arm around the other Irken. Cyanine seemed pleased with this, and nudged himself closer, laying his head on Phthalo's chest.

The blue-eyed Irken's mind drifted comfortably and nothing unpleasant lurked even remotely at the fringes of his thoughts. The endless series of questions Cyanine's presence always seemed to conjure were silent now. He could easily imagine this sort of thing becoming routine. That would have frightened him once, but now, he couldn't feel anything but grateful.

* * *

Lulu sighed, "Alright, Sunbeam, get me outta this dress."

Kaff was flustered for a moment. He struggled to find the words he was looking for and ended with an ineloquent stammer, at which Lulu chuckled.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. I just need ya to unzip the back of this damn thing." She explained. Lulu couldn't deny that his inexperienced confusion was sort of cute, in its own way.

"Oh. Right." He replied, carefully dragging the metal zipper downward.

She wasn't sure why she was so fond of the socially inept Irken. She appreciated his honesty, and there was a kindness about him that took her by surprise. His naiveté was also fairly entertaining in a strangely endearing way.

"You gonna turn around so I can change?"

Kaff immediately shook himself from his thoughts and took a step back, "Yes, right. I should do that." He replied, turning quickly to face the wall. "I can leave if, if you'd be more comfortable."

After all the time she'd served as a soldier in one capacity or another, Lulu was accustomed to changing her clothes in the presence of others, and doing so as quickly and efficiently as possible, "Nah, it's ok. I'll just be a second."

Kaff took a deep, nervous breath and unconsciously tapped the floor with his shoe and wondered if she was intentionally trying to make things as awkward for him as possible. He frowned slightly when he realized that she most likely was. Sighing as he shook his head, Kaff quickly changed into the clothes provided for him and waited for Lulu to tell him to turn around.

"Hello, vile compost heap!" Zim proclaimed at the sound of the automatic door's _whoosh_ without turning around.

Dib just shook his head, "Nice to see you, too, Zim."

"Nice? Pfft, don't pretend it's not the highlight of your day." He replied jokingly. Then, in a more serious voice, "I'm still going to lock GIR in your closet, by the way."

An ecstatic squeal shook the room as the aforementioned SIR unit gleefully leapt into view, "We gonna do each other's hair an' make meat helmets!"

Dib winced, "Would you rather I _not_ have covered for you back there?"

Zim grumbled quietly.

"That's what I thought." Dib replied, somewhat satisfied.

Mimi rolled her robotic eyes as she kept to herself and vigilantly monitored the long-range scanners. One of the control panels chirped agreeably, and she briefly turned her attention to it. "Stealth systems powering down, Quantum engine warming up. Ten to fifteen minutes and counting until we're ready to jump on your… command." She explained, that last word coming out slightly tinged with annoyance.

"We can't run stealth with the quantum engine?" Dib asked.

"Not unless you want to send us all to a fiery, painful death." Mimi answered without looking up.

"On a starship, maybe." Zim replied, "Something like this doesn't have the kind of power you'd need. This thing would overheat and probably explode."

"I don't wanna explode!" GIR cried out.

"Nobody's exploding, GIR." Zim sighed.

"Yet." Mimi clarified under her breath, "Nobody's exploding _yet_."

"Yeehoo! I'm gonna dance the rumba!" The little robot proceeded to do exactly that. Luckily, GIR's antics prevented Zim from focusing too much on what Mimi's comment intended to imply.

"So, is our course set?" Dib asked, steering the conversation in a different direction. He'd experienced Zim's recent behavior enough to know what sorts of things could trigger the alien's somewhat depressive mood swings, and had no desire to let it interfere with the mission.

"No, I thought I'd just randomly pick wormholes while in Quantumspace and hope for the best." Mimi replied dryly.

"You _really_ are Tak's SIR." Dib commented.

The robot smiled proudly. She turned her focus back to the navigation panel, keeping an attentive eye on the quantum engine's levels and the scanners, and her expression tensed immediately, "What's that human word you use when something terrible happens at an extremely unfortunate time?"

"Crap?" Dib tried.

Mimi shook her head in disagreement, "No… it's more emphatic than that."

"Shit?"

The shuttle's proximity alarms began to make their unfortunate half-honk half-wailing sound and the navigation console blinked frantically.

"Fuck!" Dib shouted, "What the hell is going on?!"

"Fuck." She repeated in a satisfied voice, " _That's_ the word I was talking about."

Very suddenly, the piercing wail of a siren replaced the proximity alarms, and they knew that their public broadcast channel was being hailed. Once he'd shaken the initial confusion, Zim opened the audio channel.

" _Stop! You are in violation of Irkwatch order number 278. This is an unregistered Irken vehicle operating outside curfew. Surrender your vessel and prepare to be boarded. Stop! You are in violation of Irkwatch order…"_

"Why didn't we see this coming?!" Dib asked angrily in Mimi's direction.

"They _just_ came out of hyperspace a second ago, probably on their way to Tauron! They're still at the edge of the radar; we'll just have to outmaneuver them until we get the quantum engine online!"

"I thought we had a list of all incoming and outgoing transports in this sector!" Dib's very tense voice replied, "Why didn't we know about this?!"

"Irkwatch _doesn't have to_ register with authorities. I imagine situations like this are exactly the reason why." Mimi explained.

Zim grit his teeth as he began to punch a series of buttons, "Zim will handle the navigation!"

"Oh joy." Mimi muttered, "What could possibly go wrong?"

Ignoring the sarcastic SIR unit, the Irken continued to issue orders, "Mimi, sabotage their ship!" Zim commanded, as the shuttle jostled a bit after he assumed manual control.

She looked at him as if offended.

Zim grunted in frustration, "Well, I already know you _can_ sabotage it, so I figured that question was a waste of time!"

Mimi shrugged, half agreeing as she pulled up a separate screen. "We need to get this thing attached to their ship before I can do anything." Mimi explained, revealing a small spherical metal object with several blinking lights. "It works like a breaching pod, but for getting into a ship's computer system."

"GIR!" Zim ordered, "See the shiny spaceship with that bright, happy light?"

"Sure do, Master!"

"This," he said, pointing at the device in Mimi's robotic hand, "is its very best friend. You need to make sure it finds its way home, and then come right back here!"

GIR nodded dutifully, "Yessir, Master! Yeee-hee-hee-hoo!" He cried, racing to the airlock and ejecting himself into space.

Just as GIR had gone flying through the automatic doorway, Lulu and Kaff came bursting through. Lulu took one look at the navigation panel and balled her fists angrily, "Fuck me sideways!" She took a deep breath, "No chance this thing's got a cannon on it?"

Dib, desperately trying to prevent his nervousness from manifesting on his face and in his voice replied, "No – It's ok, we've got a,"

"Fuck!" Mimi cursed, "Breaching pod, incoming!"

Zim grit his teeth and forced the ship into an extremely sharp turn before accelerating, which created significant distance between the two crafts, and threw everyone in the room off balance. "Hold on!" The Irken cried as he guided the small ship through what seemed like an impossible series of evasive maneuvers.

The temporary relief from the distance between them quickly faded as rapid, short bursts of light began to whiz past the ship and Zim reacted by sharply tilting the vessel to the right, forcing it almost completely sideways. Quickly, he straightened out and made an abrupt U-turn, which none of the room's occupants were enthusiastic about, however, they couldn't complain because it bought them time.

"We're online!" Mimi shouted with relief as she began rapidly typing commands. "This won't do anything about the breaching pod, but they won't be calling for reinforcements!" She smiled, "Aw, I'm sorry, were you gonna use that escape pod I just jettisoned? That one, too? This just isn't your day. Too bad your navigation's out, and, oh, look – your stealth drive is completely offline. Did you happen to _need_ those life support systems?"

"Turn them back on!" Dib shouted, interrupting Mimi's glee, "We don't need to kill them… not like that…"

"Why? So they can try to kill _us_ again?"

Zim struggled with himself for a moment. He knew that a small ship of Irkwatch officers really didn't pose a threat to them in the long run, but the numbers were not on their side and as terrible as it sounded, their odds of success slightly increased with the death of every Irken soldier. It was more than a numbers game now, and the moral decision twisted his insides uncomfortably. He also had to consider how terribly unprepared they were at the moment for a full-scale war. Irk would have to respond to anything they perceived as a threat, and Zim refused to give them a reason to start shooting before the resistance was ready to fire back. "He's right. Get those life support systems online."

Mimi looked at the Irken with a half shocked, half disgusted face.

"I said _now!_ "

The raw anger in Zim's voice was the only thing that convinced the SIR unit that the Irken was telling the truth. She grudgingly restored the life support systems, but disabled the ship's plumbing out of spite. If they were going to survive, she would make sure that the experience was unpleasant.

The breaching pod was gaining on them quickly. Zim knew that the pod had the advantages of being smaller and lighter than their own shuttle, and it was only a matter of time before they'd get lucky. He was forced to make a wide left, which was all the opportunity the pod needed. The shuttle rocked and the occupants of the room staggered a bit to regain their balance.

"They're breaching the storage room hull." Mimi explained.

"Weapon locker?" Lulu sighed, a strange calm settling over her features.

"Right cabinet in the room you two just came from." Dib explained.

She looked at Kaff, "Ever shot a gun before, Sunbeam?"

He raised a non-existent eyebrow, "Are you kidding? Military training is part of the Irken basic curriculum."

"We'll take the infiltration team." She said, sprinting to arm herself.

She nearly tore the door of the weapon locker off its hinges as she yanked it open and grabbed an assault pulse rifle, frustrated that the bathrobe she'd been given left her nowhere to put any extra clips. Grunting in anger, she tore through the clothes she'd left on the floor and put on the garters she'd been wearing earlier as quickly as she could before securing a small pistol on her left and a few clips on her right.

Kaff grabbed as many as he could fit in his pockets, "We stay together. Let me know when you need to reload." He said, grabbing a gun of his own.

Lulu just nodded, slinging another, larger weapon over her shoulder.

* * *

"Pig-Boy!" Zim shouted, "Get to the engine room!"

"And just _what_ are you gonna have him mess with?!" Mimi asked, distrust and worry dominated her voice.

"Go _now_ , Dib! You won't make it there once they breach!"

Confused and anxious, Dib nodded and ran toward the engine room, only pausing briefly at the open weapon locker to grab a small pulse pistol before he sprinted past Lulu and Kaff toward his destination. He knew that if he tried to think about what was happening for even a moment, he'd freeze. Dib was running on adrenaline right now; his mind was completely clear, and though he felt a profound sort of panic rise and fall in the back of his mind, he forced himself to ignore it.

* * *

"What the hell did you send that kid to the engine room for?!" Mimi demanded, her tone full of stress.

Zim tried to shake the ship free of the breaching pod, even though he knew it was useless. He took comfort in knowing that at least he made it as uncomfortable for the infiltration team as possible. "If we divert the power from automatic navigation, we'll have this thing ready to go in no time."

"Shit, Zim, I was _kidding_ when I said I'd just randomly pick wormholes while in Quantumspace and hope for the best!"

Zim sighed in annoyance, "Lighting, then? We leave the emergency lighting on, but send the rest of the power to the engines."

Mimi was silent for a brief moment as the sound of the hull breach reverberated through the ship and she cringed, "You'd better hope this works." She offered.

Zim called Dib's com-link, "You down there yet, puny meat-beast?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"We need to get more power to the engines. Mimi's gonna talk you through it."

Mimi withheld her sarcasm and frustration and explained what needed to be done as clearly as she could. Though she did not particularly like the child, she, much like her master, would not tolerate failure.

* * *

Lulu and Kaff had chosen the room's only doorway as a sufficient place for an initial assault. If they weren't on a ship, they could have easily solved the problem with a grenade or two, but this sort of shuttle would not be able to withstand the blast without life-threatening hull damage.

"We hold here. Nobody gets past us."

Kaff nodded in understanding and readied his weapon.

* * *

"GIR!" Zim shouted over what he hoped was the right channel, "Some new friends just got on board and they want to have a tea party!" He sighed in frustration as the sound of gunfire became audible, "Hear that, GIR?! They're starting the fireworks without you!"

"But I wanna see the shiny colors go BOOM!" The familiar voice whined.

Zim sighed, "Then come back to the ship, GIR! But you better be fast, I don't think there are too many left!"

An excited shout nearly blew out the speaker, and it wasn't long before the robot was pounding his little metal fists against the airlock door.

"Lemme in, Master! Lemme in!"

Zim activated the door remotely to allow GIR back onto the ship. "Are the levels holding, Worm-Baby?!" he asked, checking in with Dib to make sure that fate wouldn't be so cruel as to have them all die in a massive explosion at Zim's orders and thus fulfill his worst fears.

"I-I think so… everything reads stable down here." Dib replied, "What's it look like, Mimi?"

"Quantum engines… online? Holy fuck, they're _online_!" Mimi shouted in surprise, "Get out of the engine room, kid, we're gonna jump as soon as the navigation's confirmed!"

* * *

Lulu sighed as her chest heaved with every breath. They'd taken out at eight of the twelve Irkwatch officers that had boarded them, but now they were nearly out of ammo. Going in and fighting hand-to-hand wasn't an option. They had no armor and there was virtually no cover.

A beam of energy whizzed past Lulus's head and she gasped in terror, feeling the heat from the shot against her cheek as it passed. She noticed one of the officers had a taken position on the opposite side of the doorway Kaff had been using for cover. Moving out of his sights, she gestured emphatically to Kaff, alerting him that someone was on the other side.

Quickly, he dropped to the floor and moved just far enough out of cover to shoot the officer directly in the foot before making a lightning fast retreat. The officer swore loudly, dropping his guard long enough to distract his two companions, who were easy for Lulu to take out with a quick step to the left.

Then, they heard the faint, tinny clunk of a can against the floor and exchanged horrified expressions. Kaff dropped his gun and sprinted toward Lulu, grabbing her none too gently as he tried to bank a hard right just as the flashbang went off.

Still dazed and disoriented, their ears rang something awful but it wasn't nearly as bad as it would've been if they hadn't moved from the doorway. Lulu was pissed she'd been forced to give up her position, but she decided that there would be plenty of time to be mad when she could stand up properly.

Kaff heard a low, gruff voice laughing and he looked up, unsurprised to see the lone surviving Irkwatch officer standing over him with a gun. He just sighed and shrugged, watching in confusion as the Irken was knocked clean off his feet.

"We was gonna have tea and eat chocolate soap together watchin' fireworks, but you and all your friends just _hadda_ go and ruin it!"

GIR continued to rant and Dib took the opportunity to shoot the remaining Irken as he rounded the corner returning from the engine room. "Is everybody ok?"

" _What?!_ "

"Are you hurt?!" He shouted loudly.

Kaff and Lulu conducted an initial assessment of their injuries, which they concluded were very minor, flashbang-induced issues aside. "You guys should try to get some rest!" Dib explained loud enough for them to understand, "We're gonna jump to," there was an initial disorienting sensation and some nausea, but it was nothing Kaff and Lulu weren't feeling courtesy of the flashbang. Dib staggered a moment and took a few deep breaths, adjusting to Quantumspace.

"Quantum jump successful. ETA three hours out." Mimi's voice explained over the shuttle's PA. Dib could have sworn he heard her smiling at his discomfort.

With his earlier adrenaline rush gone, Dib felt crippling exhaustion immediately beginning to creep into his body. Once he got Kaff and Lulu settled again, he dragged the body of the Irken he'd shot into the storage room with the others and shut the door. He sighed heavily, though it brought him no relief.

The moment replayed itself in his mind, over and over again. He didn't pause to weigh the moral right and wrong of it, just saw Kaff in danger and shot at the threat. It was strange that for all the time Dib had talked about destroying Zim and his people, he'd never considered such a thing would have any personal consequences. He raged at himself for having been so ignorant, so selfish.

Though he knew that the Irkwatch officer had planned to kill everyone on board, he couldn't help but feel wrong. He felt distant from the world; somehow disconnected, as if taking the life of another had required some fundamental piece of his. He took another deep breath and tried to collect himself. He knew it would get easier, but he wasn't sure whether that knowledge comforted or disturbed him.

* * *

**A/N:** I like to think this is somewhat better than my last update.


	19. Chapter 19

**\- 19 -**

The Void Ship finally docked at Malterra, and everyone aboard felt a long-overdue sense of relief as the airlock sealed and the doors opened. The majority of their return trip was spent anticipating the disaster they'd all been certain would befall them; after all, one did not break in to the most secure prison facility in the known universe and just walk out. While they knew their success was in large part due to Mei's abilities, she had assured them that they would have completed the mission just as well without her there and now that they were "home," it gave them the sense of confidence they'd so desperately needed, especially after what had previously happened on Vort.

The captain also felt wonderfully relieved to see that Red and Purple had made it back in a relatively unshaken state of mind. He had no doubt that it had been hell for them, but at the moment they appeared to be in no worse a state than when they left. Perhaps it was his generally pessimistic disposition, but Lard Nar had assumed they'd return visibly disturbed after having traveled to a place that could only have reminded them of what they had escaped, and was glad to see it hadn't been detrimental.

The entire crew seemed to share their disposition, and there was no reason they shouldn't, he thought. He knew from Skoodge's report that Tenn hadn't been at her best, but he was glad to know she intended to do something about it. He would not single her out and take her aside. It was better for her to take the initiative and seek Spleenk out herself. She could be proud of herself for taking proactive steps of her own volition, and Lard Nar knew how crucial that feeling of self-worth was at such a critical point.

He shook himself from his thoughts and decided that he ought to address them and offer some well-earned approbation, "What you just did was damn near impossible." Said the captain, "Before you all joined up with us, I wouldn't have suggested something like this; hell, we probably wouldn't even have _thought_ of it.

I know you're all concerned about the information you retrieved from the Void, and you have every right to be. I can tell you right now, it's going to be a question of bad, worse, and awful, but the important thing is that no matter how dire the situation looks, we _have_ the information and we can prepare for it. We have _time_ to sabotage their plans. We can take steps to minimize damage, and even _prevent_ things altogether. You all took a huge risk, and I can't explain just how important it is."

Lard Nar's speech had the affect he intended and the occupants of the room beamed with pride. No matter what they were up against, they were going to be prepared for it. They had done well and deserved to enjoy the victory while it lasted.

"Now, let's get that information to Sally and you can all take a break for a while. We'll debrief once everything's been analyzed and Zim and Dib return from their mission."

Both former Tallests were visibly surprised, having heard no mention of this until now, and Red voiced his confusion, "What mission?"

"One of our scouts managed to pick up and recruit that Irken doctor who tested out the vaccines, so I sent Zim and Dib to pick them up."

Red and Purple looked slightly nervous, and Lard Nar suspected it was largely due to their uncertainty. "How'd it go?" Purple asked, somewhat hesitant.

"They radioed in after leaving Tauron and everything was good. We're expecting them back in a few hours. No way to tell while they're in quantumspace."

Though they were still somewhat concerned, Red and Purple both appeared visibly more relaxed. Luckily for Lard Nar, their minds were still preoccupied after dealing with the events in the Void and though they knew something was slightly off, neither was able to put much thought into why. The captain didn't want to lie to them, but he knew they'd just come face-to-face with the people who'd stolen most of their lives and tortured them for decades; they did not need anything else to worry about at the moment.

Though Zim and Dib were almost an hour behind their scheduled ETA, he'd gotten reports of a malfunctioning Irkwatch vessel in the area they'd where they last reported in. There were no sightings of their shuttle, so the captain had to trust that they'd dealt with the threat and escaped. In another hour or so he'd let himself legitimately begin to worry but until then, he would assume that things had gone mostly to plan.

He knew Lulu could handle herself and keep a clear head, even when the people around her couldn't. She'd always been an extraordinary soldier who'd never left anyone behind. He had every confidence that she had gotten the job done. She'd pulled his ass out of the fire more times than he could count, though her audacious combat tactics usually made sure that he always paid the favor back. Her recklessness, enthusiasm, and youth had triggered Lard Nar's protective instincts when they'd first met (he'd always suspected she was much younger than she claimed, but he never called her out on it) and she had been his "little sister" ever since. She had proved herself in combat, regardless of her age, and eventually outgrew her strange compulsion to charge headlong into the enemy. He'd never forget the image of Lulu tossing two grenades at the same time, running _toward_ the explosion as she fired her automatic weapon wildly. Lard Nar had literally grabbed her collar from behind, yanking her toward him as he inquired what in the hell she was doing.

Of course, she had a reason. She'd seen a small group of their squad mates trying to flank the opposing force and decided to provide one hell of a distraction. Lard Nar remembered how furious he was when he learned she'd been successful and they'd forced the enemy to retreat. He'd sat her down for a lecture anyway, insisting that if she was going to do something crazy, she needed to tell him or she was going to get herself killed.

Lulu had changed significantly since the Vortain riots and the loss of her arm. She was more cautious in many ways and took far fewer risks. She had by no means lost that spark of quirky madness that always endeared her to Lard Nar, but she'd learned to use it appropriately. She'd fit in well here, the captain thought, surveying those gathered in the hangar as he turned his focus back to Red and Purple. "We should really get someone working on the quantumspace communication problem." He mused.

Red nodded in agreement, "I'd offer, but I was hoping to help Sally go through the what we found in the Void."

Lard Nar made an agreeable noise, "Of course. I'll find out whether or not Tak would be willing to head up the project."

"If we're done here, I'll head over to the conditioning wing for a while." Purple explained.

"All right, but take it easy." Lard Nar replied, "The doc gave me hell for letting you two go on that mission before you finished your rehab. If you mess yourself up and set back your recovery, none of us will _ever_ hear the end of it."

"Gotcha, captain." Purple answered with a nod, obviously trying to contain his enthusiasm for finally having the opportunity to train. He knew he couldn't do full-contact sparring yet, but there would be no harm in running a simulation or two, just to see which skills would need the most improvement.

Red knew there was something he'd forgotten to mention to the captain, though it did not pertain to the situation at hand. He stared at Lard Nar for a moment, recalling that the information was tangentially related to him, somehow. Suddenly, realization dawned on Red. "Oh, by the way, Nar," He said, "I completely forgot to tell you something before the mission."

"And what would that be?" Lard Nar asked.

Red tried to suppress the smile he felt threatening to betray him, "I got rid of that asshole we had in holding. The one who gave you trouble and had an… altercation with Spleenk."

" _Got rid of_ as in…?" The captain asked warily, taken back by the suddenness with which the information was revealed to him, in addition to the unexpected relief it brought. He was almost shocked that he didn't feel the slightest bit perturbed about the means by which Red might have solved the problem.

"Sent him to a Sewage Treatment Planet with a work order for no less than 500 years."

While Purple hadn't divulged any specific details of Lard Nar's unwanted reunion with his long-time ex, he'd painted a picture sufficient enough to anger Red. It was Spleenk's physical altercation with the other Vortian however, that had cemented his decision to seek revenge on behalf of his friends. Though neither Red nor Purple really knew anything about Speenk's past, there was something about him that made them both feel at ease. He listened well, spoke thoughtfully, and had the rare ability to step away from his personal feelings and achieve an objective viewpoint. He was kind and fair and had never so much as raised his voice in anger since Red had gotten to know him, so it was clear that whatever had driven Spleenk to mercilessly pummel another creature was a serious problem. Red also knew Spleenk was far too rational to dwell after such a violent display and it was unlikely he would seek revenge.

There had been the look he'd seen in Lard Nar's eyes back when they first arrived on Malterra, too. Red knew that look too well. It screamed of exhaustion and emptiness, like a soldier moving listlessly through a minefield as if he hoped for one misplaced, accidental step to end his miserable plight.

Whatever it was had been too personal, too deep for Lard Nar to retaliate against. Purple had only said that the relationship between the captain and the other Vortian hadn't been particularly healthy for Lard Nar's emotional well-being, and that Lard Nar hadn't been interested in rekindling anything. Red had a particular quarrel with people taking advantage of others, especially when it involved preying on things that made one weak and vulnerable. If, perhaps, this incident had occurred at another point in his life, Red might have employed a far more drastic and permanent solution to the problem on Lard Nar's behalf. As it was, Red felt that the non-lethal Sewage Treatment Planet seemed like an appropriate choice.

"…Thank you," the captain managed, "I really… thank you." Lard Nar couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry in thanks. He'd been discovering quite a bit about himself lately, but this was the first time he realized that he truly had no place for his ex in his life. He wasa different person now, and he had people who valued what he'd become in Owaiin's absence. Yes, he'd had an irresponsible lapse in personal judgment, but it only highlighted how incompatible the two of them were, and how far behind he'd left that weak, needy, dependent person Owaiin had made him.

His gratitude was obvious and Red smiled, "I figured he'd feel right at home, being the massive shit that he is."

Lard Nar couldn't contain his laughter and Purple chuckled as he shook his head. Red stood back, rather pleased with himself and enjoyed the simple, brief moment of carefree laughter for as long as it lasted. All too soon, it seemed, their attention was required elsewhere and Red took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to learn just what they were up against.

He'd known all along it was going to require sacrifice; there was no doubt about that. Irk's brutality was still vivid enough in his memory to keep him properly frightened, but the time he'd spent away from it had made him even more resentful of _Them_ , and he felt a brief surge of anger at the thought of how he and Purple had suffered. How completely and utterly and unforgivably it had changed them, not only physically but also in a way that fundamentally altered the very core of their beings. It was as if two different versions of himself had occupied his body during his life, though he remembered being both just as vividly. He remembered sobbing and shaking in hopelessness, physically sick with his actions just as clearly as he remembered how relieved and smugly satisfied he'd felt watching the Scarlet Junction burn. He often wondered what that made him now. While he tried not to dwell on it too much, he knew he could not allow himself to forget. He owed _Them_ a great debt of pain he didn't think he'd ever be able to repay, but Red was certainly going to try.

* * *

Spleenk was heading toward Sally's sort-of office to help organize and make sense of the information obtained in the Void when he heard Tenn attempting to get his attention.

"Hey, Spleenk," Tenn started as she picked up the pace of her step to catch up with the other alien.

He stopped and turned in the direction of her voice, "What do you need?"

"I was wondering if that Chief of Security position had been filled yet." She asked somewhat warily. She'd been childish and defensive with Spleenk when he initially posed the idea, and she couldn't blame him if he'd found someone else to do the job.

Spleenk smiled, "Nope, it's still open. Did you change your mind?"

Tenn looked more relieved and grateful than Spleenk had even seen her. "Yes, that is, if you still want me for the job."

"Of course," he smiled, "the position won't be official until you get clearance from a doctor, but you can start making plans and getting things organized as soon as you want. It's not you; everyone on the command staff needs psych clearance, even me. Even the captain. I'll make you an appointment for tomorrow, if that's ok."

Tenn thought she'd feel offended at the mention of a doctor, and from Spleenk's expression and the way he'd tried to minimize it, she guessed that he shared the sentiment. Surprisingly, Tenn couldn't feel anything other than relief. "Yeah, tomorrow works."

"Great! You should let the captain know you're taking the job; he'll get you set up with personnel rosters and budgeting stuff, which should keep you busy for a while."

"We have a budget?" Tenn asked.

"Yep. How else could we afford all this?" He replied, gesturing to indicate the facility around them.

She considered this and nodded thoughtfully in agreement.

"You should ask 'Nar to fill you in on how it works. If there's anything you need to do your job better, we'll do our best to get it."

Tenn nodded, "Thanks, Spleenk… you know, for everything."

Spleenk's expression indicated that her thanks were unnecessary, "You made the decision; I had nothing to do with it."

She gave him a nod that conveyed her understanding and gratitude, "Still. Thank you."

Spleenk smiled warmly, "You're welcome."

He was glad that Tenn had changed her mind. She really was the best person for the job and he knew she'd do it well, but most importantly Spleenk knew that everyone would need to be at his or her absolute best to face whatever lay ahead. He was reasonably confident that their hunch about the Void Prison's true purpose was correct and hoped that the information they'd obtained would give them the advantage they needed.

He frowned once Tenn had turned the corner and out of view. He couldn't shake his concern over the historical context Grel had provided them. Whatever they were planning had been thousands of years in the making, and he was frightened by how patient _They'd_ been. Most people could barely tolerate the harrowing interval it took to cook microwaved popcorn. They had waited, and they had done so deliberately. Whatever their plan, there was some reason it couldn't have been executed until now. So why? And even _if_ the resistance discovered _Their_ plan, they couldn't possibly prepare for all the contingencies. It worried him.

There was something in that train of thought his mind was stuck on. They had waited so long… how the _hell_ had they survived? They couldn't all be the original group, staying alive by the same means Gil did, could they? He supposed it wouldn't be hard, though. People went missing all the time. Maybe Gil wanted _willing_ surrogates, but that wasn't necessarily gospel for the rest of his people. How were there so many of them, then? Did he have a separate hatchery? No, that wasn't right. If they did, they would've implemented it a long time ago. They'd been at this too long and they were far too intelligent not to think of something that obvious. Maybe he recruited those in whom he saw potential and were susceptible to his ideology (whatever the fuck it was). Spleenk figured it had to be a hell of a sales pitch. "Join us and kill your own people in pursuit of my thousand-year-old agenda!" just didn't seem like it could possibly go over well with anyone. Then again, he thought with morbid amusement, he supposed everyone needed a hobby. Maybe it offered great health benefits.

Spleenk sighed. He hoped that by the end of the day, at least _some_ of his blanks would be filled.

* * *

Dib didn't think he could bear another minute on the shuttle with twelve dead bodies, even if they weren't in sight, and he had no idea how he was going to make it through the next forty minutes without having a huge nervous breakdown in the middle of the bridge. His hands were shaking and had been since he fired the shot that killed the last Irkwatch officer, but he hadn't taken notice of it. Zim however, had observed that the boy was not well but sensed that it would be inappropriate to inquire about the nature of his troubles until they had some privacy.

Had he been his old self, Zim would have used this moment to flaunt his superiority and demoralize Dib. He no longer felt the urge to do that; instead, he felt something that was almost… concern (as disgusting as it was to admit). Though the alien still had his reservations about the human, he knew that Dib had probably saved them all by lying so well back on Tauron. While Zim certainly did not doubt GIR's ability to cause a significant diversion, he knew that plan carried serious risks and a clean getaway would have been very unlikely. He'd analyzed the thousands of possible outcomes the mission might have had, but in each one where the back-up plan became necessary someone always died.

If the mission had unfolded as it did and Dib hadn't been able to smooth-talk the guard, he would've been killed. The guard was too close and Dib was unarmed. GIR and Mimi would have been too far away, and neither would have had a clean shot from where they stood. They would have investigated Dib's species and found him in Zim's reports. Earth would probably have been destroyed and Irk's suspicions would have been raised considerably.

If security had decided to conduct an inspection of the shuttle, they all would have been killed, without question. Zim knew his identity was a liability, and while one could theoretically change his or her Pak ID, there was no way to forge an ID record in the Irken population database. It would bring up an automatic error code when scanned, which would force the Pak into sleep mode so an investigation could be conducted. Using a dead Irken's ID yielded the same results, with a greater degree of suspicion and severe punishment. Irk typically wouldn't even bother with an investigation in the latter instance, reasoning that an Irken who'd been declared dead certainly couldn't be alive, and remedied the situation by deactivating the Pak in question completely.

All things considered, the Dib was largely responsible for the mission's success. Zim reminded himself that he too played no small part, and a satisfied smile formed on his lips. He'd done excellent work giving the breaching pod a chase, and he'd come up with the idea to divert power to the quantum engines to speed up their escape. He'd even been able to use GIR as a tactical advantage.

The issue with GIR was really just a matter of knowing how to communicate with him. Of course, the robot couldn't be expected to maintain any activity for longer than eight minutes without getting distracted, but he could be useful and Zim was glad. Glancing at the robot in question, Zim found him curled up next to the control panel, asleep. All the excitement had either knocked GIR out or Mimi had put him in standby mode again. He was both annoyed and curious as to how she'd managed that, and though much about him had changed, Zim was still stubborn, and he certainly wasn't going to vindicate her by asking.

Somehow, the unexpected Irkwatch vessel attack had inspired a new confidence in the small, former food service drone. He'd hated the siege while it was happening but now he felt good. He'd been useful and accomplished his objective, and everyone was still breathing. He'd done well, and for the first time in what felt like eons, he was proud of himself and had a reason to be.

"Exiting quantumspace in five, four, three…" Mimi explained in a calm, even voice. She hadn't thought to give an advanced warning about seatbelts or other safety precautions, so the ship's occupants were thoroughly jostled about as the vehicle entered normal space.

Zim sighed and shook his head, reactivating their communications equipment. Once everything was online, he contacted the captain.

* * *

Sally breathed a drooling sigh that required no translation to convey her dismayed frustration. Spleenk grew concerned upon hearing the sound as he entered the room, prompting him to immediately inquire as to what had happened.

"There's lots of information here… _yottabytes_ worth. We thought it would be best to narrow down the kind of files we're looking for, and then run a program to find information about the stuff we know, like the inoculations, weapons blueprints, and that list of planets you gave us a while back." Urr explained.

Spleenk paused to remember. He'd almost forgotten that he'd even looked into the planets Irk had demolished and rebuilt in order to look for a pattern. He hoped that cross-referencing the list with this new information would yield some sort of answer, either confirming or disproving Red's hypothesis about the planets being mock "safe zones" _They_ intended to obliterate. "Sounds good." Spleenk replied, "What's the problem?"

Sally sighed again, Urr echoing the sound, as she pointed in the direction of a very tall red-eyed Irken, glaring daggers at a computer screen.

Spleenk sighed as he scratched the back of his head, "He's trying to go through everything manually, isn't he?"

Sally nodded in agreement and Urr just shrugged, at a loss for what to do.

Spleenk took a deep breath to organize his thoughts before he approached the workstation where Red was sitting. It was clear that Red did not want to be disturbed and found Spleenk's presence stressful, no matter how much he generally enjoyed the other's company.

"We both know this is a pretty dumb idea." Spleenk said. He didn't bother with the pretense of asking what Red was doing or what his motivations were; Spleenk already knew, and he did not think Red would appreciate being treated like a child.

"Spleenk, we don't even know what we're looking for. We've got no idea what the hell is in all this data, and we _can't_ afford to miss anything."

"If the entire resistance sat down and did nothing but comb through this all day, every day, we'd die of old age long before we ever got anything meaningful out of it. Let Sally run her software to make some sense out of this stuff. _Then_ we'll go through it manually."

Red was frustrated, bordering on upset, and gave a defeated sigh, "I can't just _wait_ , Spleenk."

"Purple would offer an innuendo that suggests otherwise."

Speechless for a moment, Red couldn't prevent the half smile, half smirk from forming on his lips, "…Yeah, he probably would." He answered with mild amusement.

Grateful that the mood had lightened somewhat, Spleenk offered a comforting expression, "Listen, I know how hard it is for you to give up control right now, and I know what this means to you, but you need to understand that _no one_ on our side of the fight is going to let these bastards have any advantage. They're _going to_ pay for what they've done."

Red examined Spleenk for a moment, somewhat surprised by the raw sincerity in his voice. Red had always known that everyone had their own reasons for joining the resistance, and he was aware that they were largely unpleasant. He never wanted to know specifics, which suited everyone just fine since they had no desire to divulge the details of their personal tragedies. He supposed he still needed to be reminded of that sometimes. He was not the only one who'd suffered terribly and wanted revenge, and there was something about Spleenk's manner that forced Red to take him completely seriously; in that moment, Red genuinely believed that Spleenk would stop at nothing to bring the people who'd hurt him and his partner to swift and painful justice.

"You can keep reading through… what is that, a maintenance log?" Spleenk asked, squinting to see what was displayed on the monitor.

Red sighed, finally conceding. "I was hoping it might be some sort of code, but… yeah, it's a maintenance log."

"I promise we'll let you know when we find something." His voice was firm and reassuring. "You're welcome to stay, of course, if you want to."

"No, you're right. I'll just make myself crazy if I stay here." Red paused thoughtfully for a moment before he resumed his speech, "Why do I keep doing this, Spleenk?"

The other alien did not have the heart to tell his friend _"you're trying to deal with the terrifying lack of control we have over our lives and the lives of our loved ones,"_ so he settled for"Old habits. You can't help it."

Red sighed, "Yeah. You're probably right."

* * *

As soon as they'd landed safely and the air pressure of the hangar stabilized, Zim was greeted by a very happy Lard Nar and an anxious Tak. The female Irken gave a huge sigh of relief when she saw Mimi exiting the craft with a proud expression on her robotic features.

"Mission accomplished, Mistress!" Mimi explained in an excited manner uncharacteristic of her, from what Zim had seen. Tak herself appeared genuinely enthusiastic as her SIR unit relayed the details of the mission.

Zim knew he had a certain… kinship with GIR, so it shouldn't have surprised him to see Tak and Mimi share a similar fondness. He recalled making various plots with GIR over the years, and wondered if other Irkens had this sort of bond with their robot companions. Tenn never spoke about her SIR unit, which had been destroyed on Meekrob, and Zim supposed he understood why. Perhaps the need for companionship was more deeply rooted in Irken biology than he'd previously suspected.

Dib made his best effort to push his thoughts out of his mind and appear normal as he stepped out of the shuttle. He almost marveled at Lulu's nonchalance when telling the dockworker that the vessel would need a cleaning crew, as if somehow the twelve dead bodies aboard were equivalent to a coffee stain. Kaff seemed dazed, but Dib couldn't tell if he was still bothered by the flashbang or whether he was genuinely upset.

Truthfully, Kaff was terribly confused and couldn't decide how he should feel, which made him thoroughly uncomfortable. Though he'd trained all his life for something like this, the real thing was so much different. He'd worked in emergency medicine and seen the terrible effects of war, but never been the cause of them. He understood that what he'd done was necessary, but that did very little to ease his conscience.

" _This_ is Kaff." Lulu's voice said as she introduced him to the captain. "He thinks too much. Kaff, this is Lard Nar."

She was using his name again, so he supposed this was important. Kaff nodded and extended his hand toward the captain, who shook it firmly. "Nice to meet you; welcome to the resistance. You're one of us now, so what's ours is yours, and if you need anything just ask. We're like one huge dysfunctional family."

As if to prove this, GIR began to crawl across the floor shouting, "Moose!" until he exhausted himself in a fit of giggles.

"You'll get used to it." The captain replied dryly. "Anyway," he sighed, "we'll get you settled so you have a few hours to relax before we debrief."

"You got room for me too, or you running things Crowd Street style?" Lulu asked in a joking tone.

Lard Nar laughed in spite of the cringe that developed over his features, smacking a hand to his forehead, "Fucking Crowd Street. _Almost_ the worst week of my life."

"Aw, ten people holed up in a basement the size of the airlock ain't your style anymore?"

" _Please_ don't remind me… I've almost forgotten how awful that was. And it wasn't even a basement, it was some kind of storm shelter."

Lulu kept laughing, "So, it's maybe a year into the Vortain Riots, and it's fuckin' _freezing_. Our unit is makin' a supply run up north 'cause some genius decided it'd be a good idea to keep bulk supplies in a fuckin' _glacier_."

Nar sighed, interrupting Lulu, "It was _cave_ , Lu."

She rolled her eyes, "Glacier- _cave_. Cavern. Somethin' ya couldn't see on a satellite that could trick the thermal scanners."

"That's actually pretty brilliant." Kaff offered.

"Yeah, it's great in theory, but it ain't exactly practical in the middle of the north Vort winter. We couldn't risk flyin' a transport since that whole region had been bombed to hell and back, so we took a couple of rollers."

Kaff nodded.

"So we're on our way and all of a sudden, this huge storm rolls in. We're freezin' our asses off lookin for shelter in what's left of the rubble, and all we can see is a storm shelter. We figure, it's better than waitin' in the roller so we get down there. It's cramped and chilly and the plumbing don't work, but we're soldiers, so we hunker down thinkin' it'll be a day or so."

"About five days later, the ice on the door _finally_ cracks and we're free. Easily one of the top four worst moments of that war." Lard Nar explained before checking his watch, which had begun to beep insistently, "Ah, shit. I've got a thing. Let me grab somebody who can help you find your rooms."

Shloonktapooxis was eager to help, and did so cheerfully before abandoning the two newest arrivals to continue his business. Lulu had noticed that something was off about Kaff's disposition since they landed, and gave a long sigh.

"Alright; what's the matter, Sunbeam?"

Kaff hesitated for a moment, "I just… I've never killed anyone before. I mean, I've lost patients, but I never _meant_ to kill them. Back on the shuttle, I did it like it was nothing. I know we had to, and I understand that they were gonna kill us, but… it just… it feels wrong."

"We did everythin' we could to avoid a fight. They attacked and tried to kill us; shit, one of 'em put a gun to your head. I'm sorry if I seem like a jerk, but I ain't losin' sleep on account of that sorry sonofabitch."

Kaff understood her point. He couldn't beat himself up over self-defense. It was all right that he felt responsible; that was how it should be. He recognized the part he played in the death of the Irkwatch officers, but he hadn't forced them to fire. They made their choices, just as he made his.

"Like I said before, Sunbeam: I ain't got much, but what I got, I aim to keep."

Kaff paused in thought for a moment, "So… you've got me?"

"Well, ya ain't dead yet."

* * *

Dib had snuck quietly back to his room once they'd been dismissed by the captain. He took a deep breath and held his head in his hands, preparing to feel the full weight of his situation about to break over him with the force of a tsunami. Everything inside him felt as if it were about to rip open; his guts twisted painfully as he winced, thinking he might be sick. He braced himself as if anticipating a painful kick to the stomach – and then, just before the metaphor would have landed, there was an impatient series of knocks on the door. Dib flinched and stood puzzled for a moment as the enormous, looming awfulness in his mind and the urge to vomit began to ebb. Both were still there, just less immediate. Again, the knocks came and Dib dumbly made his way to the door.

"Finally," Zim sighed as he stepped across the threshold and into Dib's room, obviously irritated by having to wait, "your slow moving meat-sticks are not acceptable."

Dib had no idea what was going on. "…Meat-sticks?"

"Legs, Filthy Dirt Child. Your feeble human brain appears more confused than usual."

"I just, I… what are you doing here?"

Zim faltered for a moment and let out a long sigh, "You were… helpful to Zim when all this started. I believe you said I was "mopey." Since you are "mopey" now, Zim will try to be useful."

"I'm fine, I'm not moping over anything."

"I'll never understand the ability of humans to say one thing and do another. What did you tell me before we left that wretched ball of filth called Earth? _It's ok not to be ok_ , or something?"

Dib wasn't pleased at Zim turning his own words against him, but he took a deep breath and remembered that the alien was actually trying to help for once. Had this conversation taken place back on Earth, Dib might have lashed out in anger and shoved Zim away. Now, Zim was the only familiar thing he had left. If he hadn't felt so wretchedly despondent, he might've laughed at the irony. "Yeah. I said that."

Though Zim was not blessed with patience, he suffered through the long, awkward silence as Dib tried to collect his thoughts. He felt he owed the human a debt of some sort, and that perhaps he could repay it this way. Zim was also aware that he was about as well-versed in emotions as GIR was in impulse-control, but he would try.

"What was it like the first time you killed somebody?"

Zim was startled, unaware that the situation on the shuttle had required such extreme actions on the human's part. As Zim thought back through the long trail of death and destruction he'd left behind him throughout his life, he felt a sudden wave of self-loathing. "I don't think I felt anything. In my mind, the way it used to be, death just was something happening to somebody else, and nobody mattered but me." Zim explained, "Now, things are… well, it's very different." He finished quietly.

"You can't blame yourself for that, Zim. You weren't _you_ … well, _this_ you, the _proper_ you. You were programmed not to care, so it's not your fault you didn't. I don't have that excuse. I knew exactly what I was doing and I didn't even hesitate. I just saw him point the gun at Kaff and shot."

Zim gave Dib a somewhat confused look, "And suppose you didn't. What if you _had_ taken that extra second to pause? Kaff's dead, Lulu's dead, and so are you. _I'm_ dead in that scenario." He cocked his head, thinking out loud, "Mimi probably makes it."

"She does seem to have quite a knack for survival." Dib shrugged, not really wanting to admit that the rest of Zim's statement had made a valid point.

"You stopped her from turning off the life support systems on the other ship, remember? I was too busy flying to pay attention to what she was doing. I wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't said something. So you _did_ save some people."

"I just… I wish we only had to fight the assholes hurting everybody, the ones pulling the strings. It's not fair that some brainwashed Irken who might've been a decent, reasonable guy without the Pak had to die because a bunch of lunatics made rules that said he had to kill us."

Zim sighed, having no real answer for the boy. "…I don't think anything is fair. But I do know that Kaff has a chance to save thousands of people because you took that shot, so Zim orders you to cease this mopey thing, Worm Baby."

Dib finally cracked a smile, and couldn't help but feel a little less awful. "Fair point."

"Of course it is." Zim replied, "Tsk, your fragile human mind has already forgotten the majesty that is Zim. I would think you'd be basking in my obvious superiority by now, Dib-thing."

Dib sighed sarcastically, "Oh yes, Zim. You're a thing of legends."

"I shall require a ballad detailing my heroic exploits! At the very least, a folk song."

Dib had to laugh at the thought, and his former Irken nemesis appeared satisfied.

Red lingered in the doorway between the entrance of the Conditioning Wing and the hand-to-hand combat training room his partner was currently using. It was deserted, with the exception of the tall, violet-eyed Irken who remained completely engrossed in his training simulation. There was an impossible grace in Purple's movements; even the most sudden flinch did not appear jerky or awkward. It was obvious to Red that his partner was much slower than he'd have liked to be, and he was still having trouble adjusting to the subtle changes that had been made to his body with regard to the elongation of his arms and spine.

Red allowed himself to seethe bitterly for a moment, able to guess how deeply that realization must have hurt Purple, before taking a long breath and letting it go. The anger did not drift too far; Red kept these things tethered to him like balloons on string, far enough away to remain out of sight but close enough to ensure that he would not forget. It was his hope that he would cut himself free of them once he'd exacted revenge on the people responsible for the tragedies they'd endured.

Still, in spite everything, Red was considerably impressed with Purple's performance. His form was as excellent as it had ever been, save a slight slouch, and from the way he'd just knocked the simulated opponent out, it appeared that Purple's instincts were still sharp as well.

"You don't seem too out of practice." Red commented in an approving tone as he crossed the room.

Purple gave a half smile as he caught his breath, "Should've beat it four moves ago. _Would've_ , if I wasn't so damn slow and overextending my reach."

"Well _I'm_ certainly not going to complain about the size of your reach."

Purple couldn't suppress the small smirk that formed on his lips. "I suppose it has its advantages." He wiped the sweat from his face with a towel before asking, "How's Sally doing with the data we got in the Void?"

"There's too much of it to go through manually," Red explained with a small trace of frustration, "so they're running it through some software to see what comes up."

"I figured. How much of their spam did you end up reading through before you realized it was a bad idea?"

Red sighed, grumbling to himself. He was obviously displeased that Purple had been right once again.

Purple gave a light chuckle, "Stubborn fuck."

"Laugh it up, Bullshit Cretin."

"You wanna go a few rounds?"

"Tell me that's an innuendo."

Purple rolled his eyes, "C'mon. Spar with me. One round, no contact."

Red scoffed playfully, "No contact? Where's the fun in that?"

Purple gave Red a teasing smile, "It's ok; I'd be intimidated, too."

" _Intimidated_? Please, you know the Doc would kill us if he found out."

"You've broken more serious rules from _much_ more dangerous people. You never could beat me in a fair fight."

Red gave a mock laugh, "I've beaten you plenty of times."

Purple nodded with a grin, "When I wanted to lose."

Though he knew his partner was a better fighter, Red had always held his own quite well. He suspected that Purple was trying to provoke his competitive nature, but couldn't help wondering if there was any truth to his partner's claim. His curiosity, as always, got the best of him, just like Purple knew it would. "Bullshit. Fine, let's go. Right now, no contact or Pak legs."

Purple grinned as he tossed the towel aside and raised his fists, assuming a fighting stance. Red had never been more grateful for muscle memory than when his body found a familiar stance to settle into without awkwardness or too many adjustments. He knew he was probably going to lose, but felt a surprising spark of competitive energy when he noticed his partner's eagerness. Purple gave a nod, indicating he was ready, and waited for Red to acknowledge it with his own.

Red took a deep breath. He shifted his weight to the balls of his feet and nodded back. They sized one another up for a moment, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Purple knew Red was familiar with the tactics he liked to use, so he stepped out of his comfort zone; he dropped his right shoulder slightly, extending his left arm in a jab. Red successfully avoided the hit by shifting away from it, which was exactly what Purple had planned for. Taking a swift step with his right foot to breach Red's personal space, he brought his right arm to strike the middle of Red's body. There was no force behind the blow; Purple's fist simply rested against Red's stomach, but Red knew that in real life such a hit would've knocked the wind out of him. Purple's eyes lit up excitedly and Red's expression tightened as he took a step back.

"It's no fun if you're gonna _let_ me win." Purple teased.

"Just warming up." Red replied as he collected himself and nodded at Purple, indicating he was ready to start again.

It was several rounds before Red found his movements becoming more fluid and confident. Once he stopped thinking about it so deeply, his reactions were quicker and he was able to block and counter his partner effectively. He supposed that this must've been why Purple loved combat so much; it was spontaneous and unpredictable. Though Purple was much quicker to adapt than his partner, Red was pleased to discover that his intimate knowledge of Purple had made him a vastly more equal opponent than he'd been in their youth. There were subtle things he noticed now, small shifts in Purple's body language that he hadn't recognized when they were younger, that helped him anticipate Purple's movements.

Red eventually managed to win a few rounds, though he suspected Purple's growing fatigue may have been the reason for his success. Still, that wouldn't prevent him from gloating. "Your whole 'letting me win' thing was total bullshit." Red commented with a satisfied grin.

"Of course it was." Purple replied with a laugh, "I mean, I definitely lost on purpose a few times, but it wasn't a habit."

"Just can't get enough of me, can you?"

"It would certainly be a sad day for your sex life if I did."

Red hadn't expected Purple's retort, and just couldn't come up with a witty reply. Purple took notice and laughed.

"You suck, you know that?" Red remarked.

"Quite often and enthusiastically. Never heard you complain before."

Red was surprised by Purple's sudden candor. There was a spark of youthful mischief in his eyes and a playful grin on his lips. Red couldn't find him anything other than irresistible. "I'd be fully prepared to violate communal gym shower etiquette right now if you weren't so damn loud."

Purple laughed, "I'll have to let 'Nar know that in spite of all his complaints about our noise level, he ought to be grateful that it's prevented us from defiling the training wing."

"Don't pretend you're not _just_ as bad as I am." Red teased.

"Maybe worse." Purple replied suggestively, "But only for you."

Though they had spoken of leaving the past behind them, it was a task much easier in theory than practice. Looking at his partner's wry, carefree grin, Red suspected he might just be able to do that after all. It would come slowly, of course. He would gradually ease his himself free of the history that held them hostage a little at a time until he'd finally separate himself from it. One by one, the memories of guilt and terror would cease to gnaw at his soul. He would always be sorry for what he'd done and been forced to do in the past, but now, he believed that he might actually be able to accept it. He would remember, but those memories would not occupy the same space as they currently did in his mind. They would stop haunting every action and gesture, and Red would be certain of who he was.

Red had never really thought about the way he'd defined himself until now. He'd served as a puppet for a dangerous and violent man for so many years, and knew he'd lost himself deeply in the process. He was still discovering who he was outside of the identity that had been forced on him for the majority of his adult life. He was adapting rather well, but he knew there was much that still needed to be addressed in the area of personal growth. Red had always assumed that they'd die when they outlived their usefulness as Tallests and never really considered that they might have a future beyond it. The concept still seemed a bit foreign to him, but moments like this made him genuinely hopeful.

"What, no witty reply?" Purple teased, "You're _really_ off your game today, Sweetheart."

"Maybe I'm just _letting you win_." Red smirked.

Purple considered Red's reply. "Well-played. We'll call it even."

* * *

Tenn waved at Red and Purple as she passed them on her way into the training wing. She couldn't help but smile at them; they seemed so happy. Things had been so heavy between them on the previous mission, and she was glad to see it had eased. It had been difficult for her to maintain composure inside the Void prison after she'd found out it was run by men similar to the one that had nearly killed her. She couldn't imagine how awful it must have been for Red and Purple.

Still, what mattered was that they'd come out of it stronger. If they could do it, there was no reason to suggest that Tenn would fail to overcome her own fears. She lifted her sword with little effort now, which made her feel slightly more powerful. It had been more difficult than she'd expected to find an instruction manual for sword fighting, but she thought she was become fairly decent at it. She'd been practicing for nearly ten minutes when she noticed she was no longer alone in the room.

Buir stood quietly, observing her technique with an interested expression.

She shrugged as she made eye contact and asked, "What?"

"You are new at this, are you not?"

Tenn sighed. Well, there went her ego boost. "Yeah. Just picked it up a few weeks ago. Well, pulled it _out_ of me, really."

Buir looked interested, "With medical assistance, I assume?"

"Nope."

Buir cringed, "That was a bad decision. You are very lucky to have survived."

Tenn held out the sword to Buir, "I wasn't going very far with this stuck through me."

The Paladin seemed to muse over this internally before agreeing with her, "You have a point. I concede. Should you find yourself with a puncture or stab wound in the future, I would advise against removing the object. In many cases, this will actually help slow the bleeding. It also keeps the wound as closed as possible and reduces the risk of infection."

Tenn considered Buir's advice. Though she sincerely hoped never to experience a stab wound again, she knew the odds were not in her favor. "Thanks, I guess."

"The best training in the world won't help you if you're bleeding to death, is what my _kennari_ used to say." He mused before nodding at Tenn, "Would you like me to teach you how to use it properly? Your sword?"

Tenn supposed she'd noticed that Buir carried a sheathed sword, but never processed that he might know how to use it. "Um, yeah, sure. That'd be great."

Buir appeared the most enthusiastic she'd ever seen him. He hadn't really displayed much in terms of emotion since his arrival, but there was no doubt that this was something he enjoyed. "It's such a rare discipline; almost no one has the patience or skill for it anymore. Though, we have a saying back on the planet where I trained." He smiled.

"And what's that?"

"Anyone who goes into battle without a sword is improperly armed." He explained, drawing his blade.

Buir's sword was nothing shy of a work of art, Tenn thought. Someone had evidently poured a great many long hours into forging his incredibly detailed weapon.

Buir smiled, "It took me almost ten years to finish." He explained. "It's iridum. Lightest, strongest metal in the universe."

"You _made_ that?!"

"I have been Mei's guardian nearly 40 standard years. It helped to pass the time." He explained as if it were no great accomplishment, "Now, first thing's first. Lead with your left leg and hold the sword in your right hand."

Tenn did as he instructed and he walked around her, nudging her shoulders and adjusting her arms.

"There are four basic longsword guards. The first is called _ochs_ , or ox. Draw your weapon up and to the outside, and then aim the point at your opponent's throat. Of course, the angle may change depending on who you are facing."

Tenn brought the hilt of the sword to head level, mirroring the example Buir provided. She felt incredibly awkward, but Buir's approving glance indicated that she was doing something correctly.

"Good. Your blade should be slightly diagonal so you can thrust straight, turn to slice on a downward diagonal, or pull back and cut from underneath. This position protects well, but it is not as stable as others. You will want to practice holding it until it becomes comfortable."

"How long is that?" Tenn asked, grunting slightly. She felt completely contorted and uncomfortable, and had begun to rethink Buir's offer.

"My _kennari_ would've said 'until you don't need to ask that question.'" He replied with a smile. "Hold it for five minutes, if you can. Then we'll move on to the second guard."

She thought about the Irken who'd stabbed her, and Tenn grit her teeth and took a deep breath. If she was planning to use this sword, she'd learn to do it right. Her muscles ached but she refused to give into fatigue. There was something intensely rewarding about it the longer she held the position. She'd always pushed herself to be her absolute best and this was a welcome challenge.

* * *

He said nothing for a long moment as he stared pensively at the monitor displaying the dead apparatus that had previously stored Grel's consciousness. "Tell me again. What, _exactly_ , happened?"

"Th-the machine, well, it must've shorted out or, or blown a fuse." A voice struggling to remain calm replied.

"So, what you're saying is: you don't know. Our only means of finding that wretched bitch is dead, and _you can't tell me how it happened_."

The camera, now facing the occupants of the room, showed him nothing useful. They squirmed awkwardly under his gaze, trying to maintain emotionless expressions.

"What are you standing around for?!" He barked. Gesturing toward the two Irkens furthest to the left, he ordered, "Check the video logs in the control room!"

"Y-yes, sir!" They replied, making a hasty retreat.

"May… may I address you, sir?"

"Speak, Vas."

"It's not my place to question you, I know that, but… you haven't shown an interest in Grel for quite some time."

"It was _your_ job to extract the information he had, if I remember correctly."

"If… I may be so bold as to offer a possible explanation?"

"Go ahead."

"Have you considered the possibility that Grel was lying, and perhaps Iris _is_ dead? We tried everything to make him talk, even methods _you_ deemed excessive, and we got nothing."

The Irken on the other end of the call seemed to consider this, "I suppose you have a point. You could even argue that if she was alive, she likely would've made herself known by now and done all she could to stop our progress. However, if you knew her as I did… if you had watched her betray our kindness and murder us, _and_ her only son, without remorse, you might not be satisfied with speculation."

"I understand, sir." Vas replied passionately, "I'm on it."

"Good. Let me know what you find." Gil disconnected the call and exhaled a long, deep breath. He knew that even if she were still alive, there was little she could do to interfere with his plans in a meaningful way, but that wasn't the issue. The memory of Iris's betrayal still stung, even now. He did not have much time to dwell on it, though, as his screen flashed with an urgent alert. He answered, and did not take the perturbed face on the other end as a good omen.

"Yes?" He answered as one of the two Irkens he'd sent to the control room appeared on the screen.

"There's no sign of the mainframe technicians, Sir. W-we also lost video surveillance."

"Initiate a lockdown. Find them immediately."

Gil ran through the situation in his mind and nothing seemed to add up. He couldn't imagine anyone who maintained the Void prison betraying him, but it was the only explanation that made any sort of sense. The Tallest were ignorant about anything that went on there, as were their dead predecessors. Iris certainly couldn't have known; she'd gone into hiding before the prison was constructed. Pethra had been on Vort when it was destroyed, and even if he hadn't, he had no way to communicate any information he might have had left in his scrambled little brain. Not that he really knew anything about Gil's plans to begin with, and neither did Grel. His first order of business after Irk had been rebuilt was to destroy the Yu Jian, and any other race that had not yet forced itself into extinction and could remember a time before the planet burned.

No, Gil was almost certain that this had been an act of betrayal. What troubled him most, though, was that he couldn't figure out what they intended to accomplish by killing Grel. It hadn't sabotaged his endgame or the process by which he intended to achieve it; hell, it didn't effect their mission _at all_. Grel was a relic from a dead age everyone but he and a few choice others had forgotten. It was such a petty, personal attack it hardly seemed to make sense.

* * *

Spleenk's com alerted him that the preliminary analysis of the Void-data was finally complete. Immediately, he pulled up Sally's report and examined her initial findings.

It was an overwhelming amount of data, and he foresaw a disconcertingly massive quantity of caffeine in his immediate future. Hell, even if he stayed up all night, there was no way he'd get through even _half_ of the material in front of him.

The smallest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he hesitated only for a brief moment before he activated his communicator and dialed the captain.

"Hey Spleenk! Did you look at Sally's data yet?"

Spleenk smiled. Lard Nar _always_ took the time tosay "hello" to him, even when he didn't have to. "Just pulled it up now. That's why I called. There's way too much of it to go through by ourselves. I was thinking that maybe if we divided the work between us, we might actually make some progress."

"You have no idea what a relief it is to hear you suggest that." He said, though Spleenk was pretty sure he could guess by the obvious change in the captain's voice.

"Are you in your office now?"

"No, I'm outside the medical ward… well, I suppose _everything_ is a medical ward here. You know what I mean. I'll come to you. Did you eat yet?"

Spleenk paused thoughtfully for a moment and his stomach growled. "I guess not." He said.

"I'll grab some food for us on my way over."

"Thanks, Nar! See you in a few!"

"See you in a few."

Spleenk hung up and mostly failed at ignoring the giddy excitement that bubbled inside his chest. He took a deep breath before forcing himself to focus on the data in front of him and suddenly, he felt a creeping sort of dread swelling in place of his previous enthusiasm as he thumbed through the tags Sally's software had ascribed to various files and folders.

He knew he'd promised Red (and by extension, Purple) he would share everything he discovered, but seeing a folder dedicated solely to them made him concerned about his ability to keep his word. Out of morbid curiosity, he touched the icon and the folder's contents appeared in a neat, orderly list. The files were titled with a date in Irken Standard Notation and a concise label, like "armor_fitting", "r_compound_211", "p_jaw_reconstruction" and so on. The latter must have been to identify separate events from the same day, as he noticed several files shared the same date.

He could easily derive a conclusion about the contents of the files from the context clues each title provided, and his stomach churned at the thought. Still, he hadn't expected _They_ would keep records of something like this, and it might give him some insight into their behavior. He might be able to use the written contents to identify individual writing styles and begin separating _Them_ into the individual entitles that comprised the whole. He had done this sort of thing before, and while he knew profiling was never an exact science, he'd been quite good at his job in the life he'd had before this. Spleenk had studied some thoroughly depraved people in the past and this was no different, he told himself.

Deep down, he knew he was lying, but needed the courage to do what he knew was necessary. With renewed resolve, he opened the first document in the list, which referenced the armor.

Spleenk didn't know why he'd even bothered to hope for anything less than a meticulous, precise account of the process Red and Purple had endured to fit their armor, but he had hoped anyway. They had documented _everything_ , down to the psi it took to shatter their sternums. Notes regarding Red and Purple's responses to each process went as far differentiating between a shriek and a howl, and the corresponding decibel level. The prose was terse, sterile, and scientific, and each section contained references to procedural outlines, diagrams, photographs, and even time-stamps corresponding to a recording of the entire episode. It read like a punctilious sociopath's lab report and Spleenk was stunned by both their thoroughness and depravity.

Spleenk felt a fist close around his heart at the sight of Purple's face contorted in what could not be mistaken for anything but sheer agony and terror. There was something else about it, though, something he couldn't shake and it would not let him turn away despite his horror. The metaphorical grip on his heart squeezed tighter and turned to ice when he finally realized that what disturbed him the most was how young Purple looked.

He knew Irkens physically matured faster than most other species, and courtesy of the Pak, were programmed from birth with all the knowledge of an adult, so an 80-year-old Irken might be someone else's mid-30s. Purple couldn't have been more than five or six years older than Senna was when she died in that picture.

" _Fuck,"_ Spleenk thought, _"they were just_ kids _."_

For his own sake, Spleenk disabled the images with a shaking hand and skimmed the text for anything that might be useful to him. He didn't know whether to be thankful or upset when he found it, because it meant he'd be reading through more of these grisly documents.

_Behavioral Notes: preexisting relationship observed, obvious emotional attachment, esp. in Red. Will allow it to continue for future leverage, as the more dependent they are on each other, the less resistance we are likely to encounter. Subjects are clearly defiant and unlikely to respond well to conditioning, but orders are to implement it anyway._

It was subtle, and anyone who wasn't Spleenk might have missed it. In any other circumstance, he might've been proud of that. Instead, he numbly copied the text to a blank page for later reference before closing the file and struggling to calm his pulse.

Once he'd managed to steady himself, he selected the file labeled as "p_jaw_reconstruction". One glance destroyed his brief composure. He felt bile rising in his throat and was very glad he hadn't eaten yet. It was too much, even with the images off. He could only bear to skim the beginning before he had to turn away and close his eyes. He reached for the trashcan, drawing it close as he fought the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him.

Lard Nar was terribly confused at the sight of Spleenk looking pallid and haggard, hunched wretchedly over the office wastebasket. "Shit, Spleenk, are you okay?!" He asked, quickly dropping the takeaway containers onto the nearest chair so he could run to Spleenk's side.

It was strange being hungry and nauseas at the same time, Spleenk thought idly. "I'm fine," he replied, letting out a long exhale, "that shit is _so_ fucked up." He said, gesturing toward the tablet on his desk.

Lard Nar's expression was suddenly grave, "what'd you find?"

"Everything _they_ did to Red and Purple… it's all there."

Lard Nar didn't have words to respond, and instead rubbed Spleenk's shoulders until the color had returned to his face. Then he picked up the tablet to see what had upset Spleenk so badly.

Spleenk watched as shock dissolved into an expression reminiscent of being punched in the stomach. "Holy _shit_ …" he managed in a voice so utterly disbelieving it might break.

It was one thing to hear these gruesome stories from Red and Purple. Lard Nar had never suspected the extent to which they had watered-down accounts of their torture for himself and the crew. "Agony" was just a word, and though its meaning was nuanced to varying degrees within each person's understanding, everyone could agree it implied that something was at least very painful. The concept did not come close to what his friends had endured. Lard Nar knew now that words never could.

He closed the file and placed the tablet back on the desk before meeting Spleenk's eyes. "We can't let them see this."

Spleenk sighed, "I promised, 'Nar."

"Why would you do that?!"

Spleenk's expression asked if Lard Nar had expected they'd discover something like this, and the captain seemed to understand.

"…They don't need to know what we found."

"Do you think Red isn't going to stumble across it in the shit he does working with Sally and Urr? He's not going to be suspicious about hidden files he's restricted from accessing? Do you really want to be on the receiving end of the conversation when he finds out we lied?"

Lard Nar still looked ill at ease and reluctant to acquiesce.

"I think it's a terrible idea and it'll do way more harm than good, but they deserve the choice. I'm still going to try to talk them out of it, but after what they've been through… I think they deserve the choice."

Lard Nar exhaled in concession, "Why do you have to be right all the time?"

Spleenk gave a genuine if weary smile, "Must be a curse."

"I don't suppose you're still interested in dinner?"

Spleenk shrugged, "I missed breakfast, so I should probably eat something."

"You're far braver than I am." The captain said, handing Spleenk the container of food he'd brought.

Spleenk took a bite and thankfully, the nausea remained at bay. "I think I'm going to run a search to filter out everything but their notes and conclusions. It'll be faster and far less traumatic."

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Lard Nar asked with concern, "You can go through the files related to Vort instead."

Spleenk understood what the other was implying and nodded, "It's okay. I can't afford to miss details that could help us outthink them."

The captain nodded slowly, reluctantly, "…I don't think that's a good idea, Spleenk."

"It has to be me," he said, somewhat detached. "Someone else might get it wrong."

"You might get it wrong, too." There was nothing but softness and concern in his voice, and his expression was genuinely sympathetic. "It's hard to be objective when you're that close to something."

Spleenk grabbed the tablet and pulled up his clipping from the previous report before holding it out to 'Nar. "Tell me what you get from this. What does it tell us that we don't already know?"

Lard Nar studied the short paragraph for a few minutes, "That _They_ knew about Red and Purple's relationship?"

Spleenk shook his head in disagreement, "There's conflict. Whoever wrote this disagreed with the people at the top over conditioning, whatever that was, because they didn't think it would work."

"Why do you have to be so damn good at your job?" The captain asked, half in jest and half regret.

Spleenk shrugged. "I'd make a terrible interior decorator. Just look at this office."

The captain laughed, probably louder and longer than he should have, but the humor was such a relief. "I guess you won't be taking up decoupage with Red, then?"

Spleenk did not expect the sudden burst of laughter that came over him at the mental picture Lard Nar had created, "Where'd you get that idea from?"

"I think it's a running joke between Red and Purple; Purple asked me a while ago what I thought of the idea. It's still _just_ as funny."

"Let me guess: he got all defensive and threatened to do it out of spite."

"Of course he did." The captain replied, his smile remaining even as the laughter subsided.

Spleenk just shook his head in amusement before turning his thoughts back to the situation at hand. "All right, I think I have a compromise you won't hate."

"Let's hear it."

"I'll put my profiling on the backburner. It'll be a side project I can work on while we focus on the weapons, Vort stuff, vaccines, or anything else that might help us right now."

Lard Nar considered, and after a moment, accepted Spleenk's suggestion. "All right. I'll start with Vort. You want to investigate the 'safe-zone' theory?"

Spleenk sighed, "Yes."

"What's wrong?"

Spleenk met the captain's eyes hesitantly, "I'm scared."

Lard Nar took one of Spleenk's hands in both his own, "Me too.

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** I am beyond thrilled to still have readers. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! I probably won't be able to update on a weekly basis because adulthood, but I'll do what I can! This one's a bit shorter than the usual 40-page chapters, but it was too much to fit into 19 and didn't fit in 21.

**-20-**

Spleenk's fidgeting hands and fervent pacing would've been comical to Lard Nar in any other context but the one in which they presently found themselves. Spleenk had to be blaming himself for promising the former Irken dictators access to what they'd found in the Void, probably positing the millions of ways it was bound to go terribly wrong, in much the same manner he was himself. Lard Nar could almost _see_ Red and Purple's facial expressions in his mind as they morphed into that harrowing, vacant stare they sometimes evinced during flashbacks and struggled to shake it from his consciousness.

"You called them, right?" Spleenk asked, his agitated voice interrupting the captain's thoughts.

"Yes. They'll be here soon." Lard Nar tried his best to sound reassuring.

Spleenk nodded, no longer pacing but now tapping his foot against the floor. It would've annoyed Lard Nar if he hadn't been so grateful for something to steal his attention away from his own unease.

They knocked first, the sound startling both Spleenk and the Captain, who took Spleenk's hand and gave it a short, gentle squeeze before releasing it to open the office door. Red and Purple immediately noticed the tension and their neutral expressions were quickly replaced with concern.

"So, how bad is it?" Red asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from Spleenk's desk.

The captain sighed, "As bad as we thought."

Neither Irken looked surprised.

"I sent the data packet to both of you, so you'll be able to review it more thoroughly before we round up everyone for a meeting, but the gist of it is that we were right about the fake safe-zones." Spleenk explained.

Purple sighed, "Well, Red, it looks like you should get your calendar out."

Everyone, Red included, stared at Purple uncomprehendingly.

"You were right." Purple replied as small smile forced its way across his lips.

Red couldn't prevent a short, soft laugh from escaping him, "I guess I was."

Purple sighed dramatically, "I suppose I'll never hear the end of it now."

"Knowing Red, probably not." Lard Nar remarked, noticeably less tense than he had been when he first answered the door.

Purple was glad to see them ease slightly and refocused the conversation, "It's awful, but at least we saw it coming. That means we can outthink them, and we have a real shot at winning this."

Clearly, this hadn't occurred to Lard Nar or, to Purple's surprise, Spleenk. That was unusual. Something had to be wrong.

"So the plans for that Sweep Cannon saw in the Void… is that how they're going to do it?" Red asked.

Lard Nar nodded. "They've built them into several moons orbiting the targets. The good news is that the cannons are stationary, and can only be used when facing the planet. We can track each moon's rotation and see if we can predict a window when they'll all coincide. From what we know, they have a flair for the dramatic." He explained.

"It'll also maximize efficiency." Spleenk added, "No chance of scared civilians on other target planets trying to make a run for it, or going underground and survive the sweep."

"You know, I'm _almost_ impressed." Red replied, "Who the hell thinks to turn a _moon_ into a weapon?"

"Wait… didn't Zim try to squish out life on Earth with that planet… what was it? …Mars once?" Purple asked thoughtfully.

"I couldn't tell if he was serious or not. He _was_ wearing a bear suit. Then again, I suppose he's always been serious about everything. Including the bear suit." Red replied, "Why?"

"How often do you hear about planets or moons being weaponized?"

"You think there's a connection?" Spleenk asked. He'd been uncharacteristically quiet, which both Irkens had found disconcerting, so hearing him participate in the conversation more than once was comforting.

"He said something about a society of ancient floating heads, if I remember it right. If that civilization was around at the same time as Irk, maybe the technology is similar. It's a long shot, but… what are the odds?"

Red thought over his partner's suggestion, "That whole solar system was supposedly uncharted before we sent Zim out there completely by accident. You think that might've been a cover-up?"

"I thought Mei's people were a legend until she showed up here." Lard Nar replied, "I guess anything's possible."

"They left information about the destruction of Yu Jian in the Universal Database because They were proud of it." Spleenk explained, "It's their way of bragging. Are there any Martians left?"

Red shrugged, "The planet's barren now, from what Zim said. Not sure how it got that way."

"I'll have Sally add Mars to the list of things to look for in the Void-data, just to be safe." Spleenk replied.

"We'll bring it up at the debriefing to see what Zim remembers." Lard Nar added, "Maybe he'll be able to answer some of our questions."

"It's worth a shot." Spleenk responded, making a note to remind himself.

"We also found what looks like a shipping schedule for those growth vaccines, and some blueprints for some new vehicles and weapons." Lard Nar explained, "I'll go over everything in more depth once everyone's all together; I just didn't want either of you to go into the meeting unprepared. Plus, you might be able to see something we've missed."

The Irkens appreciated Lard Nar's courtesy, and it was nice to know that the pressure was not entirely on their shoulders. However, Spleenk's current expression prevented them from feeling any relief. He was clearly tense, two hands fidgeting idly while the other two remained tightly folded on the surface of the table, and he looked as if he were trying to prevent an uncomfortable grimace from spreading any further across his lips.

"So, what else is there?" Red asked, directing his question at Spleenk.

The alien sighed, "For the record, every impulse as a mental health professional is warning me not to tell you this. It has nothing to do with our mutual goals, and frankly, I think the only thing it'll do is upset you both. Having said that, I promised I'd tell you what we found." Spleenk took an unhappy breath and continued, "There are quite a few data entries about both of you… specifically, your lack of cooperation. Procedural details and surgical reports, situational analyses, things like that. Some… commentaries."

The mood had gone from cautiously optimistic to a sort of nauseous tension. The two Irkens exchanged a look of uncertainty and searched each other's eyes for an inkling of what to do. There was no humor or lightheartedness now, and Spleenk felt something twist sharply inside him at having robbed them of their comfort.

Though it pained him to see his friends hurting, Spleenk was somewhat relieved that they hadn't immediately demanded to read the reports for themselves. The violent, trembling rage that had surged through Spleenk when he'd first read the documents was similar to what he'd felt toward Owaiin as he'd bestowed a spectacularly merciless pummeling. He'd known about some of the things they'd gone through, but never in such cold, calculated details. Precise measurements of wounds in length and depth, surface area and severity of bruises, amount of blood lost, chemical compositions of poisons and their biological effects, voltage and amperage, the decibel level at which each had screamed, the other's reaction… there was no doubt that They enjoyed it. Spleenk had nearly vomited as he read through an incident that had involved the reconstruction of Purple's jaw. Shaking and sick, he'd had to put it away, unable to finish.

"Unless there's anything you think we need to know," Purple managed, "I don't want any details."

"No. I'll have these files locked down to prevent anyone on the crew from accessing them. You'll have the privilege, of course, but… if you trust me at all, you'll leave it be."

Red said nothing for a moment. He was curious to know just how severely his partner had been hurt, but stopped himself from asking. He knew the information he wanted would also tell Purple just how badly Red had suffered, which was not something he thought his mate should be concerned with. Having lived it once was bad enough. There was no reason that they should force themselves to live it again, through the eyes of the men who'd hurt them.

It would also cloud his judgment and he could not allow for that, especially now. He knew he'd want to strike out in anger. He'd dwell on everything he'd vowed to put behind him earlier. He'd blame himself, and it would drive an unnecessary wedge between himself and his mate. He thought of Purple's sly, mischievous smile from earlier and he couldn't bear to watch it be replaced with soul-crushing sadness.

"Just… we don't need access. You can send the medical stuff to the doc, but get rid of the rest. We already know what happened."

Spleenk let out a huge sigh of relief and Red and Purple felt as though they'd made the right choice. "I'll do that." He could tell that there was something between the two Irkens that still needed to be said, so he granted them privacy, "Lard Nar and I are gonna go grab food and discuss a few things and plan out the meeting. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need to."

They gave him a grateful nod, both their minds too occupied to formulate a substantial response in words. Lard Nar understood what Spleenk was trying to do, and followed the other out of the room, closing the door behind him politely.

The silence between them was not of the same nature as what they'd experienced after Spleenk had given them their choice. It was a pensive silence that felt oddly delicate.

"I'm surprised you let that go." Purple commented. There was nothing to be implied, no malice or hurt anywhere in his voice. Red had been so eager and determined to dive into whatever data they had gotten in the Void, and Purple thought it odd that his partner had been willing to deny himself what'd he'd sought only hours ago.

"Me too." Red replied honestly, "I don't think I would've been able to, if it had come up earlier."

"Why's that?"

Red shrugged, "You."

Purple didn't seem to understand, and his expression conveyed this precisely.

"After seeing you so happy before, I just… I thought that maybe we could _really_ start putting all that shit behind us like we talked about. We've made it this far and maybe, shit, maybe we can even have a real life someday. I _hate_ Them, but, well… I love you more."

There was a short moment of silence in which Purple tried to think of a response, but he quickly abandoned the notion of speech. Instead, he swiftly and decisively closed the gap between he and his partner with a startlingly intense kiss. Though briefly surprised at first, Red was not shy about returning the gesture. At some point, Red wondered in the back of his mind how far Purple planned to take things, just as Purple hesitantly pulled away and broke the kiss.

"I want you to know," Purple began, still breathing heavily, "that I'd have far less restraint if we weren't in Spleenk's office right now."

"Why are we still in Spleenk's office, then?"

"Meeting's in a couple of hours."

"I can think of several perfectly satisfying activities we could do between then and now."

"Yes, but then we'd miss dinner." He said, standing and making his way to the office door.

Red knew better than to deny Purple a meal and sighed grudgingly, "…You know, I'd say something _really_ inappropriate if I didn't think it would cost me sex later."

"Good. C'mon, let's get food."

Red muttered something along the lines of "eat me" in an agitated voice as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Purple chuckled and offered a quick, "Maybe for dessert" over his shoulder as he headed out.

Red scowled for a moment in frustration, not processing that Purple had given a response other than _"you wish."_ When he realized what Purple had actually said, he quickly exited the room in search of his partner. Purple was _still_ unpredictable as ever.

* * *

Gil did not appreciate being inconvenienced. After Vas had called him back to explain that the disappearance of the technicians happened to coincide both the interruption in the surveillance video and the docking of a Void ship that for all intents and purposes, had disappeared, he was feeling more than a little agitated.

The ship had gone totally dark. They _were_ able to find emergency beacons from its life pods that had, for some reason, been launched. The pods were all heading to different destinations, which was quite suspicious. He'd dispatched a group to investigate the situation and round up as many life pods as possible, and he was thoroughly unhappy about it.

It wasn't that he had any particular need for the group he'd sent; everyone else was just as dedicated and would serve the mission equally as well. It was the circumstances that irritated him. Though he'd known it was possible someone might betray him, such a thing had yet to happen (with the exception of Iris.) None of his people had ever turned on him before, but he understood that they'd never been this close to achieving their goal. What made him uneasy were the suspects in question. He couldn't imagine someone who worked in the Void would have such a weak stomach when it came to the final phases of their plan, especially when most of them had worked to develop the unique persuasive techniques he'd employed over the years.

Perhaps there was a simpler explanation. He called one of his advisors and asked them to look into any pirate fleets or raiding parties that may have been in the area of the Void Ship. It wouldn't explain the missing technicians, but it would certainly account for what had happened to the ship. Gil reasoned that if their technology was sophisticated enough to commandeer a Void Ship, they could easily have gotten into the prison's security system, or perhaps the missing technicians had been bribed or blackmailed into helping during the course of their most recent leave.

On the brighter side, he'd received word that the doctor Cyanine had failed to dispose of had managed to get himself killed. His Pak was completely deactivated, which was one less thing to worry about. Feeling somewhat more relaxed, he ordered two of his people to fetch the Tallest. He had a schedule, and he was going to stick to it.

* * *

They'd both grown to hate the sound of knocking. It sent a dreadful shiver up their spines and trigged a sensation similar to freefalling in their stomachs. Nausea rose and their hearts beat in their throats as every step toward the door of Phthalo's room filled them with more and more dread.

Neither Phthalo nor Cyanine had done anything to disobey their "superiors." They'd heard _nothing_ from them in the last day or so, and had made the mistake of feeling comfortable. This was an unwelcome reminder that they did not have the luxury of peace. The solace they'd been able to find in each other was always in jeopardy and could be threatened at any moment.

They exchanged somewhat confused glances when they were not roughly grabbed or beaten upon opening the door. Instead, they were quickly escorted to an elevator they couldn't access without one of the black-cloaked Irkens and descended several floors.

Cyanine was tired of this. The fear was exhausting and especially jarring juxtaposed to the peace Phthalo had begun bringing to his life. It made him sick to think about, but on some level, he knew he'd already given in to whatever would be asked of him. The rebellious part of his nature screamed against it, though Cyanine knew resistance would only delay the inevitable and he couldn't bear to see Phthalo suffer for his stubbornness.

He could still see Phthalo's face in his mind, contorted in pain as poisoned needles poked out of his skin like he was some kind of perverted pincushion. The expression of utter hopelessness in Phthalo's eyes still haunted Cyanine. His heart ached with guilt as his eyes glanced from the floor to his co-ruler, and then shamefully back to the floor again.

Phthalo thought he might be able to bear this crushing silence and his anxiety might not have choked him as badly if he could only hold Cyanine's hand. Just a simple clasping of fingers could silence the nervous panic in his mind; all he had to do was reach out and touch. Yet, he knew if he were to do so, he might sentence them to a fate worse than death.

One of the escorts interrupted Phthalo's thoughts as he opened a door and urged them to enter the room across the threshold. It was fairly empty, save the Irken who had to be the leader of this nameless group, who smiled the same unnerving smile.

"It seems the doctor who somehow slipped through Cyanine's fingers got himself killed. We're sending a unit to confirm it, but I think you can sleep easy tonight, Phthalo. Hopefully, your partner's incompetence has remedied itself."

Cyanine breathed deeply and nodded in agreement.

Phthalo wanted to tell Cyanine not to blame himself, that he'd done his best and Phthalo didn't hold him responsible for the punishment he'd received for it. Phthalo feared that this man would be quite eager to prove him wrong if he were to express such a sentiment, so he remained silent.

"The first shipment of vaccines will be in transit 36 hours from now. They're due to arrive in a week. Give the order to begin setting up clinics and taking appointments. You'll be given a list of priority patients," he chucked a little at the word _patients_ , "make sure they're among the first to receive _treatment_."

Both Irkens nodded in painful agreement.

The leader's smile widened, "There. You see how much easier this is when you just follow orders? I know you may have trouble seeing it right now, but this really is for the greater good. Everything will make sense in a few weeks and I promise you'll understand the necessity of this awful business."

Cyanine bit his tongue and tasted blood. His face betrayed nothing.

Phthalo's jaw clenched, but he too remained silent.

"Good. You're learning much faster than the last two idiots who had your job. It still amazes me they lasted so long." He sighed, changing the subject, "I don't need to tell you what'll happen if you fail me, do I?"

Both Irkens shook their heads to indicate that they were absolutely aware of exactly what had been implied.

"Well then, enjoy your evening." He said. Then, addressing their escorts, "See that they get back upstairs."

The return trip was a blur of anger, self-loathing, and sadness that left them where they started. Back in Phthalo's room, they mused internally over what was to be done and the part they were required to play in it. Neither said a word and somehow, when they finally made eye contact, understood exactly what the other had no language to express.

Tentatively, Phthalo reached for Cyanine's hand. Cyanine's expression softened slightly as he met the other halfway to complete the gesture.

"It's not your fault." Phthalo said quietly, "What happened to me, I mean. I don't blame you."

"You heard what he said. It _was_ my fault."

Phthalo tried to catch Cyanine's downcast eyes, "Why would I believe a word out of that asshole's mouth?" The firmness in Phthalo's voice made Cyanine look up and he felt the grip on his hand tighten, "I _don't_ blame you. Are you gonna take his word over mine?"

"…Not when you put it like that." There was still a strong degree of reluctance in Cyanine's voice, and his posture indicated that he still wasn't completely at ease.

"What's wrong, Cy?"

Cyanine hesitated; a short series of start-then-stop fragments tumbled clumsily from his mouth until he took a deep breath and collected his thoughts, "How are we gonna get through this?"

Phthalo didn't know. He'd coped with the orders they'd received by pushing them as far out of his mind as possible. He couldn't bear to think about the consequences. "I… I don't know, Cy. Together, I guess. We'll do it together." Unconsciously, Phthalo pulled Cyanine into a hug the other Irken gratefully returned. It was odd how naturally that came now.

"Thanks." Cyanine replied in a broken voice, holding Phthalo close.

Phthalo wanted to say something to comfort Cyanine, but could think of nothing to console _himself_ with, and kept silent as he continued to offer his embrace. He wished he were strong. A better man would have been able to do something to stop this. Phthalo could only think about the terrible agony the poisoned needles had caused him, and how much worse he would feel seeing Cyanine in that position. It was clear to him now that Cyanine was the only thing in the universe that Phthalo could protect. If he and his partner rebelled, Phthalo knew his people would be led to their slaughter just the same under new leadership. The only _good_ thing he could do was to keep Cyanine safe.

* * *

Lard Nar's command staff consisted of Red, Purple, Spleenk, Tenn, Shloonktapooxis, and Tak. Zim, Dib, Skooge, and Lulu had become field operatives with the success of their last missions, though no one had told them that yet. Both groups gathered in the briefing room to discuss the new information they now possessed and to devise a strategy to make use of it. Among them, Mei and Buir were also present. Lard Nar had not yet decided what role they ultimately played in all this, but they'd been invaluable so far, and he didn't think it would be a bad idea to have a prophetess in the room while plotting war strategies. Kaff sat quietly beside Lulu, probably shell-shocked from seeing Red and Purple alive and overwhelmed by the sudden change in his surroundings.

The captain took a moment to observe his crew before calling the meeting to order. The hostility that had been present the first time he'd summoned everyone together had dissipated considerably. They all still had their differences, but they seemed so insignificant now.

"First of all, you should get to know Kaff, our newest recruit." He said, gesturing at the Irken who seemed bewildered until he recognized his name and gave a small, sheepish wave. "He's tested the fake vaccines Irk plans to give out and we're hoping he can find a way to counter it. He won't be in the field, but he needs to be brought up to speed on a few things. Lulu will be joining field ops; she's been a good friend of mine and I've fought by her side more times than I'd like to remember."

"You make it sound like I ain't never shown you a good time, 'Nar." She replied with a grin, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Grenades are not my idea of a good time, Lu." He deadpanned.

"I LOVE grenades!" Shloonktapooxis exclaimed, his eyes bulging with fevered excitement, "I gotta show you the new ones I been workin' on! I _doubled_ the blast radius,"

"Shloonktapooxis," The captain sighed, "she'll be here a while. Can we table this discussion for now?"

"Sure! Sorry man, my bad. You know I get excited 'bout 'splosions!"

"All right, with that said, the next thing you all need to know is that I've reorganized our command structure, and it effects all of you from here on out. Now that I've had a chance to see what everyone can do, I feel comfortable giving you standing assignments. Everyone will need security clearance, so you'd better make yourselves an appointment with one of our doctors for a psych evaluation. You have the right to turn down the opportunity if you want to.

"Tenn is our new Security Chief; you need supplies, patrols, scouts, additional teams, you ask her. Tenn, anything you want to say?"

"Just one quick thing," She said, looking to her tablet before addressing the group, "I was doing inventory today and noticed we're missing a pair of handcuffs from Storage Room 63, the area where the engineers were working to get the quantum engine online. Since I didn't personally screen them, and there's already been a violent incident with one of them attacking our crew, I'm a little concerned. Does anyone know anything about that, or remember seeing anything suspicious?"

Red had done a remarkable job of looking as clueless and concerned as everyone else in the room. Purple blushed uncontrollably and looked away, trying to shield his face with his hands, and prayed no one would notice.

"What's going on? Why's he blushing like that?" Kaff asked cluelessly.

Lulu chuckled, "It means we know where the handcuffs went."

Lard Nar took notice and slapped his palm to his face. At the rate Red and Purple provoked this response, he was going to end up with a concussion. " _Seriously,_ Purple?"

"You know, for someone who's always telling me I'm a terrible liar, you haven't got much of a poker face, Sweetheart." Red remarked, half amused.

Purple just shook his head in exasperation. "You couldn't have just played dumb and told Tenn we stole them _after_ the meeting?"

Red chuckled, "This one's on you, Pur. For once, I didn't say _anything_. And _you_ stole them."

"For _your_ benefit."

"I haven't heard you complain about that yet."

"I didn't expect you'd actually try to cover for me!" Purple replied, clearly annoyed. "I'm shocked you resisted the opportunity to make some embarrassing little joke."

"If I said something, we'd have to give them back."

"…It's okay, you guys can keep them." Tenn said, updating her inventory as she shook her head and tried not to laugh. "Anything else missing I should be aware of?"

"No. That's it. Unless there's something I don't know about yet." Red replied, throwing a teasing grin at his partner.

"No." Purple answered, trying to muster up what remained of his dignity.

"I don't understand." Came Kaff's confused voice, "What do they need handcuffs for?"

_Well, so much for dignity_ , Purple thought.

Lulu leaned in, close to the side of Kaff's head and whispered. Kaff's eyes widened in shock, but not the horror or revulsion that still manifested in traces on Zim, Skooge, and the captain's faces.

"Oh. Well, that makes sense, then." He managed awkwardly.

"Now that we've solved _that_ mystery," Lard Nar began, narrowing his eyes at Red and Purple to emphasize the latter two words, "I'd like to go through the rest of the staff changes and get to the point of this meeting, which is to get everyone debriefed and up to speed on our last two missions.

"Tak, you're going to head our Research and Development division. We've got enough engineers to fill a planet, so you'd better put them to work."

For a fraction of a second, Tak seemed to stare uncomprehendingly, as if she had expected this, like every opportunity she'd ever tried to capture or create, had been wrenched from her grasp before she'd even been able to hold it. Tenn and Spleenk were the only two who caught it, and Tenn was the only one who understood it. She gave a quiet smile, glad something had _finally_ worked in the other Irken's favor.

To everyone else, Tak appeared genuinely pleased with the news as she nodded her head in acceptance. If she allowed her neutral mask to slip out of place, she would be overwhelmed by sobs of joy so intense they'd wrack her small body. She wondered if this was that "happiness" everyone kept going on about. It was terrifying and wonderful; she almost couldn't bear it but hoped it would last forever.

"Red is going to head up Strategy and Defense. You'll be relying on Spleenk's intelligence team, security, and field operations. The command staff will vote on whether or not to implement said strategies, and I retain veto power. You can overrule my veto if you can get every single other member of command to agree, and convince me to withdraw my objection. Then we'll bring it to a vote within the larger council."

Red frowned. "Seems like an awful lot of bureaucracy to me. How are we supposed to get anything done?"

The captain sighed, "Obviously, this doesn't apply in a crisis or time-sensitive situation. They all know that. They do deserve a say in whether or not their soldiers go off to die in a poorly-selected staging area."

"Point taken." Red acquiesced.

"Good. Purple, you're in command of Field Operations. You don't need to plan every operation, but unless it's an emergency, you should be reviewing them. You'll have a say in who goes on what ops, necessary gear, all that fun stuff. You know," he began with a small smirk, "if you'd waited on the handcuffs, you could've requisitioned them from Tenn under the pretense of your new job and totally avoided your earlier predicament."

Purple just sighed, "This is going to become one of those stories, isn't it?"

"You mean the kind where, when we reminisce years later about the war, we'll say, ' _remember the meeting where Purple stole the handcuffs'?_ " Spleenk asked.

"Yes."

" _Yes."_ Came the chorus of affirmations from literally everyone present.

"You too, Mei?"

The prophetess giggled quietly.

"Did you know this was going to happen and _not_ warn me?" He asked, only half in jest.

"No," she said in between giggles, "I cannot see things like this. That is why it is so funny."

There was something terribly amusing about Mei laughing, though no one could say for sure what it was.

"I guess I should just be happy we'll have something good to look back on when we survive this." He hadn't meant for his remark to be so sobering, but it reminded everyone of how temporary these small, strangely beautiful moments were. Who knew if there would be an empty chair the next time they gathered here?

"Skooge, you'll be dividing your time between reconnaissance missions and operating in the field. Purple doesn't have to authorize your recon scouts, but you should coordinate their efforts with Tenn and make sure you share information. Dib, I had planned to put you on communications full-time, but you're far more valuable in the field with Zim. Because of your age and lack of combat training, I'd never put you in a ground battle if I could help it. When you're not able to assist with an operation, you'll be running communications. Zim, you're my new favorite mercenary."

"Hey, what about me?!" Lulu cried, feigning offense.

"Pssh, you're old news, Lu." Nar responded teasingly with a dismissive motion of his hand.

"I got some new tricks that might surprise you."

"I've pulled you out of too many bar fights for anything you do to surprise me."

"Aw, come on. I outgrew that shit a long time ago."

"So you did." He acknowledged, "But I'm still going to tease you about it. Anyway, I'd like Zim to continue working with Dib in the field.

"Oh joy." Zim replied dryly.

"With that out of the way, we can get to the important stuff." Lard Nar continued, "as you know, we sent a small group to infiltrate the Void. Their objectives were to investigate a creature called 'Grel' and to obtain any information that they could. Both objectives were completed."

He continued to explain what they'd learned from Grel about Iris, their enemy, and the lost history of Irk. "We've uploaded everything so you can access it for yourself. It's probably best we go after Iris sooner rather than later. The fact that They kept Grel alive so long means there's unfinished business there, and understanding it may help us understand Them."

"Buir and I will accompany Skooge to find Iris." Mei volunteered. "I would also like to see my people again, if no one objects."

"…Maybe I should come, too." Spleenk offered, somewhat hesitantly.

"Why?" Lard Nar asked, suddenly uncomfortable.

"It's just… we don't know how she'll react to her husband's message. She's lost the son she devoted almost a decade to saving _because_ of the device she invented to keep him alive. She may just… not care anymore."

"But why else would she keep herself in cryo all this time?" Red asked.

"We have no idea what her reasons were, but what concerns me is what happens if they don't exist anymore? What if the thing she wanted to fight for is dead or destroyed? And even if she _does_ still have a reason, how do you think she'll react when she finds out what her technology turned Irk into, and what it's done to the rest of the universe?" Spleenk explained, "Someone who knows how to deal with emotionally volatile situations needs to be there. We need her on our side, and I think I can help if things don't go as planned."

Purple nodded in agreement, "Spleenk's right. He won't be in danger and he's the only one with the skill set we need. He's got my approval. Do I get to do that yet?"

"Yes, but it's not official until you get your psych eval." The captain replied. Lard Nar wasn't sure why Spleenk felt the need to go, but he could tell that the other alien felt it strongly. As much as he didn't want Spleenk to leave, he knew it would be wrong to deny him the chance. "But, I agree with you. Spleenk will go with the team to recruit Iris. The next thing we need to talk about is the shipment schedule for those phony growth vaccines. According to the itinerary we got from the Void, the first batch is due to ship out in roughly 36 hours from a small moon. We need to intercept that shipment."

"We could blow it up!" Shloonktapooxis suggested excitedly, "Y'know, after we evacuate everyone on board!"

"The priority is to bring the shipment back here so Kaff and the medical team can study the compound. Though, it might not be a bad idea to blow up the source." Lard Nar explained. "There's no way anybody but _Them_ would be making a biological weapon to use against their own people."

"The captain's got a point." Lulu replied, "Kaff said everybody he worked with got pretty spooked when they tested that stuff. Destroyed the whole batch to be safe."

"We did." Kaff nodded. "We couldn't risk keeping it around; it was too dangerous."

"It looks like we'll need two teams for this one, then." Purple mused, "One to grab the shipment and one to neutralize the production facility. Would anyone be offended if Red and I did the honors?"

No one voiced an objection.

"Thanks." Red offered. "So, how do we take it out?"

"I got _just_ the thing!" Shloonktapooxis chimed in excitedly, "It's a mini-nuke inside a pressurized shell – ya can launch it from orbit and it looks just like space junk on the radar, but once the atmospheric pressure normalizes, the shell breaks away. Mini nuke goes exactly where it's supposed to and BOOM. I been callin' it the Chubby Baby, but I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

Purple had long supposed Shloonktapooxis was either some kind of idiot savant or playing an extremely long joke on everyone he met. From what he knew of the First Mate, Purple was not yet prepared to come to either conclusion. "You think a mini-nuke will be enough?"

"One Chubby Baby explodes with the force of two standard atomic bombs, give or take."

"…How'd you figure _that_ out?" Red asked, half dumbfounded, half curious.

"Pssh, _science_ , man!"

"Oh. Ok." Red replied. He was about to ask Shloonktapooxis to elaborate on what exactly that science involved but stopped himself. It was clear he wasn't going to get an explanation deeper than _that doohickey_ _and the thingamajig go boom_.

"While the three of you take out the production site, we'll need a team to get the virus shipment. "Tak, Lulu, Zim, and Dib… will the four of you be able to handle that?"

"We can get Mimi onto the ship without raising any red flags." Tak mused, "She won't show up as a life form, and she'll be able to get in through one of the maintenance hatches. Once she locates the cargo, the tricky part will be getting it off the ship. It's probably being shipped in a pressurized container, so at worst, we blow a hole in the side of the transport. At best, we're able to breach it like the void ship. Either way, we'll need a distraction."

"Zim doesn't get a say in this, does he?" Zim asked in a resigned voice.

"I'm glad you brought that up. No, you don't." Tak replied dryly. "You and the human will back Lulu and I up."

"Can't you just intercept it at a fuel station or something?" Lard Nar asked.

"Maybe. But I think they'll increase security when we blow up their base."

"So we don't blow it up, then." Purple replied, looking somewhat dismayed for a moment, then, "Where do we stand with the Planet Jackers? Are they neutral in all this?"

The captain sighed, "We've tried to form an alliance, but they're still hesitant. We can't exactly guarantee them a new home world in return for their help. Everyone's going to want their planets back after the war, and we'll have a shortage of those as it is."

"Why don't they just relocate their planet?" Dib asked, "I mean, it's not like they don't have the technology."

There was a moment of silence during which everyone wondered the same thing.

"I'll work out some possible locations that might accommodate its orbit and run it by them." Lard Nar replied, "I seriously can't believe they didn't think of that first. If we can get that to work, what do we do about the vaccine shipment? Even intercepting it at a fuel station would raise suspicions because nobody knows about the cargo. How much longer can we stay anonymous? As soon as we become a legitimate threat to Irk, things get a lot harder for us."

"Well, what if we made it look like a pirate raid?" Lulu asked.

"Woohoo, pirates!"

"I mean, what if we made the crew think they were bein' boarded by pirates? We could just take _all_ the cargo; hell, we take the _ship_ and send 'em off in life pods or somethin'?"

Tak paused, "That might work. We'll still send Mimi in first and I'll have her take out the communications systems and tracker beacon. From the manifest we've got, it looks like this'll be a small cargo ship, so we'll be able to take it pretty easily."

Lard Nar considered this, "It's better to be over-prepared, just in case. I'll put together a fleet of six fighters for you. It may be a small ship, but we're not sure who's on it, or if they'll have an escort." With that taken care of, he moved to the next order of business, "We've figured out that Irk has been rebuilding certain planets with the intention of setting up fake "safe zones" to "protect" people once the vaccine starts making them sick. We think they'll play it off as some kind of virus just to get as many people into one place as they can.

"They've built Sweep Cannons into several moons orbiting these worlds; the good news is that they can't hit anything until they're facing the planet and we think they want to coordinate that. We've got other engineers and weapons designers looking at the blueprints to try and find a way of shutting down or neutralizing them. In the meantime, we'll have to employ some preventative measures to try and minimize loss of life. Again, I want us to stay under the radar right now, so I'll put the word out to our scouts."

Nobody liked the idea of not being able to send a direct warning to the inhabitants of the designated "safe zones," but they had to consider the long-term consequences and plan everything precisely.

Shloonktapooxis took a breath but before he could speak, the captain held up his hand, "I know, it's terrible. That's why I want you to come up with a solid evacuation plan we can implement in under 10 hours." He said, facing the cone-shaped alien. "Hopefully, we won't need it, but we have to be prepared."

This seemed satisfactory to the purple soft-drink-snow-cone, and he wiggled his straw-like antenna in approval, "On it, Captain!"

"This might sound kinda random, but Zim," Red began, "you told us about an ancient race of floating heads from the Sol system that turned their planet into a spaceship, or something? Do you think there's any connection between that technology and this?"

"Oh, you mean Mars!" Zim replied, "Yes, I remember. They worked themselves into extinction, I believe."

"We never figured anything out about Mercury, though." Dib commented thoughtfully, "It was the same technology as on Mars, but there were no instructions."

"Well, that makes your flying it successfully _slightly_ more impressive. Not much, but slightly."

Dib rolled his eyes. "I wonder why there were no instructions on Mercury."

"Maybe it found your human form repulsive." Zim retorted in his usual manner.

"If I'm so repulsive, you don't have to sit… wait." Dib paused thoughtfully, running a hand through his hair, "Wait. What if it didn't recognize me because it had never encountered my species before? What if that thing on Mars responded to you because it knew you were Irken?"

"Makes sense." Spleenk offered, "A species that advanced would never allow such sophisticated technology to be used by a race it didn't know."

"Still, it feels like too many _if's_." Purple replied, "We need to send someone there to investigate."

"I'll take care of it." The captain replied. He was tired of sitting and waiting and worrying. He needed to do something productive. He knew he'd be a nervous wreck with Spleenk gone and felt he could do with a distraction.

"You need an Irken with you. I'll come too." Tenn replied, "It'll be nice to go on a low-risk, strictly recon mission." She wasn't lying. Tenn would wake up early to get an hour or two of training in with Buir and go see Spleenk's doctor before she would head to Mars with the captain. She'd take one thing, one day at a time and sooner or later, she'd be all right.

"Red, Purple, and Shloonktapooxis, you'll run things in my stead until I return. This way, you can focus on getting yourselves back to full strength. Everyone looks pretty exhausted, so unless there are any pressing concerns, let's end things here for now. We've all got our work cut out for us; we'll need as much rest as we can get."

No one was slow to file out, leaving only Spleenk and the Captain remaining in the room.

Lard Nar broke the silence, "So what are you gonna say to Iris if she won't come with you?"

"I'll try a few different approaches. If worst comes to worst, I'll ask her about her son. Tell her about Senna if I have to. Find common ground and earn her trust that way."

Lard Nar grew concerned, "Are you sure you want to do that?"

Spleenk sighed, "I don't think I'll have a choice. She's lost so much, and the way things are now might be too overwhelming for her. After a while, you just… lose the will to fight."

"That doesn't explain why you're here." The captain reminded.

"I appreciate the compliment, 'Nar, but the only reason I'm here is because you gave me something worth fighting _for_. I've already told you that."

"Yes, but…"

"You don't think I meant it?" Spleenk asked.

"I suppose you did." The captain replied, "I just… it's still hard to think that _I_ could have that kind of affect on someone like you."

"A recovered drug addict working as a cargo smuggler? That's what I was when you met me."

"Come on, Spleenk. You're more than that."

"Yes, but it's just a matter of perspective. Remember that." Spleenk smiled, "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, and if I'm not, I'll be sure to tell you."

"Good." A comfortable moment of silence passed, then the captain remembered, "Oh, hey, did Red tell you about what he did to my asshole ex?" Lard Nar asked.

"No. What happened?" Spleenk asked, interested but there was a degree of concern in his tone.

Lard Nar chuckled, "Sent him to a Sewage Treatment Planet."

Spleenk burst out laughing, "Seriously?!"

"Oh yes. Forged a work order of 500 years."

Spleenk breathed through his laughter, "That's amazing. I'm now convinced that there _is_ justice in the universe."

"Normally, I'd be a pessimist but tonight, I'm inclined to agree."

"I'm glad." Spleenk replied with a smile, "You deserve it."

"Damn right I do."

Spleenk watched Nar smile and thought his heart would burst.

In the ease of that moment, Lard Nar recognized the expression on Spleenk's face and the Vortian was truly struck. "Have you always looked at me that way?"

"Yes." Spleenk answered honestly.

"Could I… would it be too forward of me to ask you to spend the night with me? I don't want to rush into anything… I just want to hold you."

"I'd like that."

* * *

"You're awful quiet tonight, Sunbeam."

Kaff shook himself back to reality. "Oh, um… yeah. I guess so."

"Somethin' on your mind?"

"It's just…" Kaff struggled for words, "the _enormity_ of it all… the sheer size and scope of this, whatever's going on, is… I can't even fathom it. I understand it, I see how it happened, but I can't- it just doesn't make any fucking _sense_."

Lulu sighed, "People do fucked up shit all the time, Sunbeam." Then, as an afterthought added, "I ain't never heard you swear before."

Kaff shrugged, "First time for everything."

"Since we met you've gotten your first hickey, shot someone, and started swearin'."

"You left out the cross-dressing."

Lulu laughed, "At this rate, you'll be some kinda drug kingpin by the time I get back."

"Be careful, Lu."

"You're the one of us more likely to get in trouble."

Kaff considered protesting, but realized she was probably right. "Still… just be careful, ok?"

Lulu hadn't expected the pleading glance he gave her and she was startled for a moment. "I'll be fine, Sunbeam. Don't go gettin' sentimental on me."

* * *

They accepted that they had no choice other than to do what was expected of them in order to ensure each other's survival. They both knew that deep down, neither could live with the guilt of putting the other through additional suffering, on top of the countless others that would inevitably follow. There would be nothing noble in forcing the other to forfeit his life on principle. There was no room for heroism and no option that was purely good. That still did not make the choice right. They were helpless and guilty by association, and certainly responsible for the consequences of their obedience; yet somehow, Cyanine's presence made this knowledge bearable for Phthalo.

Phthalo couldn't understand the logic of it, but didn't waste too much time trying to make sense out of much anymore. He knew he did not deserve the peace Cyanine brought to his shattered life; however, he found himself unable to resist it. Instead of futile attempts to reconstruct the shards that continuously sliced him open anew, he was able to leave them behind whenever his co-leader was around. Cyanine himself was just as destroyed, but his harsh edges had been blunted by the demands of their position. It was the only thing Phthalo could hold without agony, the only thing that would not splinter in his hands. For some strange, inexplicable reason, it gave him hope.

"How do you do it?" Phthalo asked curiously over the murmuring of the actors on the vidscreen.

"Do what?" Cyanine responded as he lowered the volume, " _it_ is a very vague and nonspecific pronoun."

"This." Phthalo replied, "Nothing hurts and everything makes sense when I'm with you. How do you do that?"

"I could ask you the same question." Cyanine answered.

"You could, but I asked you first." A small smile formed on Phthalo's lips.

"True." He sighed, "I don't know. Maybe it's just easier when you know you're not alone. Things don't feel so awful when I'm with you, so maybe the same principle applies."

"Whatever vague and nonspecific principle that is." Phthalo remarked in a playful jab at Cyanine's earlier policing of his pronouns.

"I like to be around you and it makes me happy... it makes me _better,_ if that makes any sense." Cyanine tried to explain, "When I'm with you, the good parts of me come out and I'm not thinking about how terrible I am or how shitty everything is. As soon as I go back to my room tonight, I'm going to hate myself again."

"So don't. Stay here instead." Phthalo replied.

Cyanine didn't answer right away, and Phthalo suspected his co-leader was giving him time to retract the offer. While there was a subtle tension that bubbled inside him as the suggestion thoughtlessly left his mouth, it was not the blaring air-raid siren of panic he'd experienced when they had first begun getting to know each other.

Phthalo did not want to rescind the invitation. Part of him wanted Cyanine to stay, and that part was now in the ruling majority of Phthalo's emotions. A smaller portion of his mind still declared that such behavior was unconscionable, but it was easily silenced when he juxtaposed the moral repercussions of Cyanine spending the night with him and following the orders he'd been given. He made eye contact with the other Irken and hoped his gaze conveyed this information.

"Thank you. I'd like that." The relief that flooded Cyanine's face was also evident in his body as he relaxed against Phthalo.

"No worries." Phthalo sighed, beginning to trail his fingertips down the back of Cyanine's head in the way he knew his co-leader found pleasant.

Cyanine slackened into the light touch and let out a soft breath. It was remarkable how a simple gesture could ease him so completely. Moments like this, when he and Phthlao were alone together, allowed him to shut everything else out. He wanted to return the favor and do something comparable for Phthalo, something that would convey his gratitude. "I'm gonna have to figure out what you like." He replied in a calm, dreamy voice.

"What do you mean?"

"There has something like this that you enjoy. You know, something to make you feel better. Maybe help you relax." He said, taking hold of Phthalo's free hand. Phthalo had done so much for him in recent days, and Cyanine felt a strong urge to reciprocate the affection and comfort his partner showed him. There had to be some kind of non-sexual physical contact the other could enjoy in a similar way. He wondered what he might be able to do. He supposed it might be easier if he stopped thinking so hard about it. "What do you think?"

Phthalo thought for a moment, realizing just how little he knew about himself and his own preferences. Comfort had never been a question for him; he'd never required such a thing before. Strange, how he couldn't imagine life without it now. "Just this… being here, with you." He said, gently squeezing Cyanine's hand.

Looking at their clasped hands gave Cyanine an idea. "Can I take the gauntlet off?"

Phthalo stiffened, feeling his stomach lurch unpleasantly at the thought of the amputated finger underneath. "I-I'd prefer if you didn't, Cy."

Cyanine appeared disappointed, his eyes moving from Phthalo's hands to his own. He realized that Phthalo wasn't afraid of _him_ , rather the ugliness obscured by the garment. He wondered if Phthalo knew that they were both equally damaged underneath. Cyanine hated seeing Phthalo so afraid. In his mind, the armor was a sort of prison they were forced to cling to, lest their physical disfigurement be revealed. It protected them from shame and embarrassment, but it was not a refuge of their own design. In a perverse way, it gave power to their "superiors," whoever _They_ were. This knowledge did not make it any easier to resist the comfort he found in the privacy of his armor, but he felt something more powerful than fear in that moment. Whether it was empathy, affection, anger, or pure stupidity he could not tell, but took a deep breath and began removing the metal shield from his own forearms.

"What are," Phthalo was cut off by the sound of metal latches clanking open and the muffled clatter as the green-striped armored glove fell unceremoniously on the plush blue carpet, another tumbling to join it shortly after.

Cyanine looked vulnerable in a way Phthalo had never seen from him. Phthalo remembered how broken the other had been after "taking care" of the IDA scientists, how raw and utterly wounded he was. He was nothing like that now. He was exposed in a different way that felt far more intimate. It wasn't the revealing of skin that created that feeling – they were only _hands_ , for Irk's sake – but rather the injury he exposed. The sight was jarring, but not for it's ugliness. It stirred something inexplicable that Phthalo could not name; it was neither sympathy nor pity. It was something deeper that resonated within him like a tuning fork.

Cyanine said nothing, taking Phthalo's gauntleted hand in both is own and waited.

Phthalo didn't know how to feel. His chest was swollen with that feeling he couldn't name and thought he'd choke on. Part of him wanted to burst into tears and he did not understand why. He was not sad, but that something heaved with a burning ache, almost too heavy bear. His chest felt so full he thought he might explode or collapse into himself; both seemed equally possible at the moment.

"…How are you that brave?" Phthalo asked in a trembling voice.

"I'm not, really." He replied in a tone equally as fragile. "I guess I just trust you."

Maybe that was it. Cyanine had made himself vulnerable for Phthalo, exposed his own ugliness so Phthalo might be comforted and he had trusted the other wouldn't recoil in disgust. Phthalo remembered how conflicted he'd been over the thought of how Cyanine might react to his body and felt both foolish at himself and filled with intense admiration for his partner. It was not an easy task, as evinced by Cyanine's heart pounding against Phthalo, even though the weight of the armor. Phthalo summoned all his courage and drew a deep breath, "Okay." He said, "You can take mine off."

Cyanine didn't do anything, though. He just continued to hold Phthalo's hand and relaxed against his body. Phthalo was unsure if Cyanine had heard him. After a few moments, his hand began to feel itchy and uncomfortable inside the metal casing. He stared at Cyanine's hands longingly, wanting to feel them clasped around his own.

He'd never thought about the extent to which the Empire had gone to prevent touch, even under the most innocent of circumstances. Even smeets wore gloves. It had been explained as a gesture of respect and even, at times, a safety issue, but what it really did was place a barrier between Irkens and the world around them. Just another way to prevent them from ever _feeling_.

Phthalo felt determination rising in his chest now and briefly detangled himself from his co-leader in order to remove his own gauntlets, before the emotion passed.

"You don't have to, Phthalo." Cyanine said. He did not want to guilt the other into anything he wasn't comfortable with. He'd taken his own off to convey trust and reassure his co-leader. "I just wanted to remind you that we're the same underneath. You don't have to be ashamed of anything."

Phthalo's gauntlets joined Cyanine's on the floor, "I know I don't have to be. But I am." He replied, draping his arm across Cyanine's shoulders again. "I'm working on it." His free hand took hold of Cyanine's, "This helps."

"Good." He replied, giving Phthalo's hand a squeeze. He ran the fingers of his free hand over the back of Phthalo's experimentally, "How's this?"

"Comforting." And it was. Cyanine was not repulsed in the least by his hands, deformed as they were in their current state, and Phthalo found this amazing. Something inside him had been sure that even though they were victims of the same defect, Cyanine would still find Phthalo to be significantly hideous. Phthalo almost couldn't believe that his co-leader wasn't bothered at all. The fear inside him unraveled as effortlessly as thread pulled from a spool. _"I think I might be falling in love with you."_ He thought silently.

Cyanine's thoughts ran along the same vein, though neither expressed the sentiment aloud.


	21. Chapter 21

So, this chapter just kind of happened. Nothing of what I originally planned for 21 is actually here, but that just means more material for 22. These damn characters just wouldn't stop talking. This chapter is pretty light, but don't let it fool you. Enjoy it while it lasts. I promise there's at least one line that will come back around in the future to punch you in the gut. Yes, I'm a terrible person. But you should all know that by now.

This really should have been out months ago, but I've been struggling with how to structure upcoming events. Having three missions happening simultaneously, each with different pacing, while trying to parallel Phthlao and Cyanine's development with Red and Purple's has been a bit of a challenge and I wasn't sure where everything fit. I have the rest of the story planned out (and have for quite some time), just working on executing it properly. No more 6-month breaks!

**\- 21 -**

Phthalo was grateful when the door that joined his room to Cyanine's opened and the green-eyed Irken returned dressed in his sleeping robes. With Cyanine gone, the room instantly felt much larger than it had been only moments before, and the terrible dread of consequence began to creep into his mind with its wispy black tendrils.

The thundering, dissonant chorus of questions and recriminations had gone quiet as of late. Feelings of attachment or affection seemed so small a concern in comparison to his complicity in the deaths of billions. He almost missed his inner voice alternately berating and criticizing him over Cyanine; perhaps it, too, had been stunned into silence by the weight of his current predicament. "Predicament" seemed like far too mild a word for it, but "crisis" involved panic he didn't feel. He had resigned himself to the inevitable: Irk was dead with or without his complicity; it just hadn't noticed yet.

He could tell from the look on Cyanine's face that his thoughts hadn't been any lighter than Phthalo's.

"I'm so glad you came back." Phthalo said, his relief obvious in both his face and his voice.

Cyanine's troubled expression softened at the sound, and he managed a small smile, "Me too. Thanks again," he said, "for letting me stay."

"You're totally welcome, Cy."

Silence passed between them, and the leaden weight he'd previously felt around his heart melted away, dissolving like sugar. He wondered if Cyanine knew he could do that, or how grateful Phthalo was for it.

The silence stretched on as he stared at Cyanine, shifting from comfortable to borderline-awkward as Phthalo suddenly realized he hadn't considered this part. When he'd asked Cyanine to stay, he hadn't been very specific and only now did he realize that inviting someone to sleep with you might, not unreasonably, be interpreted as something less-than-innocent. He was adrift on an open, uncharted ocean that offered him no hint as to which direction he ought to steer himself.

Cyanine noticed Phthalo tense slightly as the fingers of his right hand began to fidget absently at the sleeve of his robe. He seemed to be pondering the same question Cyanine was: what on Irk were they supposed to do now? Ordinarily, Cyanine would've asked him outright in the same manner he usually did, but he didn't want to frighten the blue-eyed Tallest.

"So… I can sleep on the couch, if you want." He offered, trying to discern without directly asking if Phthalo's earlier invitation had meant _stay with me in this room_ or _stay with me in my bed_. It was a simple question that somehow became too complicated to ask when he tried to phrase it casually. He couldn't understand this strange, evasive timidity that suddenly shaped his thoughts in circles around a subject. It wasn't like him.

"Oh no, don't worry about it. I can stay on the couch." Phthalo tried to mask the disappointment in his tone, and obviously failed by the confused expression that manifested on Cyanine's face in response.

"Do you _want_ to sleep on the couch?"

"Well, no… not really, but I don't want you to have to sleep there either."

Cyanine paused to assemble his reply. "So… you're okay if we both sleep in your bed?" Just for clarity's sake, he added, "Sleep as in 'actually sleep', not, you know… something else."

"Oh thank the Universe," Phthalo sighed in immense gratitude and relief, "that's what I meant, but then I didn't know if you knew _that_ was what I meant, or if you thought it was weird, and when you asked about the couch I thought you misunderstood; I didn't want to pressure you, but I didn't want you to think I don't want you there."

Cyanine smiled affectionately at his co-Tallest's rambling explanation, "God, you're so adorable sometimes it hurts." He thought as warmth bubbled in his chest, making his lungs feel like inflated balloons squeezed tightly in a smeet's arms.

He didn't understand the blue-eyed Irken's sudden blush or the shy smile he seemed to be fighting against.

"You know," Phthalo's soft, bashful voice replied, "you're not bad, either."

Cyanine was visibly startled and his eyes went wide in surprise, wondering how Phthalo had known exactly what he'd been thinking. As the answer occurred to him, he felt his own cheeks flush with embarrassment and mild horror.

"…I said that out loud." He managed in a voice filled with dread. He covered his face with his hands and desperately willed himself to disappear into the floor, in spite of its impossibility. There was that timidity again. His face burned hot against his palms, even though he'd expressed similar sentiments before. Something was different now, though, and he knew it.

He had felt the shift inside himself as it happened; gradually at first, but he'd liked the feeling, and so he did not question what prompted it or what it might eventually become. He'd known he was growing attached and recognized his increasing fondness for the other Irken. He'd understood somewhere that their interactions had been progressing toward something beyond friendship, but he hadn't thought to ascribe it a name until earlier. Though there was no Irken word for it, and the human, English word wasn't perfect, it had come to him easily, without any mental effort, and in the moment, it had seemed like the easiest, most natural and obvious thing in the world. Of course he was in love with Phthalo. How on Irk could he _not_ be?

The great and terrible truth about moments, though, was their transitory nature. Now, he had to navigate this murky and hazardous field where any number of obstacles might prove his undoing. Worse yet, he wasn't even sure where all of it led. What was he supposed to be aiming for? How was he supposed to communicate this to Phthalo _without_ ruining everything? It wasn't _what_ he'd said that embarrassed him; it was his concern over how Phthalo would react. Accidentally passing out from exhaustion on someone's shoulder or cuddling on a couch were intrinsically different from intentionally sharing someone's bed. Perhaps it derived from the vulnerability that came with sleep or the innuendo implicit in sharing a bed; Cyanine was no anthropologist (not that there _were_ any Irken anthropologists). Either way, it put his compliment in a very different context that might easily be misconstrued.

He couldn't hear Phthalo crossing the room over his own inner-monologue of _"shit, shit, I probably freaked him out, he's going to ask me to leave and I don't blame him",_ but hefelt the warmth of Phthalo's hands gently drawing his own away from his face. Cyanine kept his eyes shut until he felt Phthalo's palm against the curve of his cheek.

Phthalo's hand had moved without his knowledge, as if of its own volition, and he didn't notice until he felt Cyanine's warm face against his open hand. He processed only its location in space and nothing else. "It's okay." Phthalo said, smiling.

Cyanine was so rarely flustered that seeing him in such a state was oddly endearing. Thus far, Phthalo had awkwardly stumbled alongside Cyanine down whatever metaphorical path they seemed to be walking together, making himself a display of spectacular gracelessness and stammering ineloquence in the process. It reassured him to know that his co-leader didn't have it all figured out either.

Cyanine sighed, "I just don't want to do something stupid and lose you."

"Well, you tried pretty hard to lose me at the beginning, and I'm still here." Phthalo leaned in shyly and nuzzled Cyanine's forehead for a brief, glancing second, "So I don't think you've got anything to worry over… I mean, unless you hog my blankets. _That's_ a dealbreaker."

Laughter unexpectedly burst from the green-eyed Irken, and Phthalo silently thanked every deity he could name that Cyanine had thought him funny, "Duly noted." He said, "How do you feel about pillows?"

Phthalo mock-considered the question, "If it's a one-time thing I can let it go, but we might have a problem if it becomes a habit."

"I had no idea you were so territorial."

"Hey, you don't mess with another man's bedding."

"I think I can manage that." Cyanine replied, "While we're on the subject, you should know that I fully intend to judge you based on which side of the bed you choose."

"Sounds fair." Phthalo said, finally stepping away from his co-leader and making his way to the left side of the mattress before drawing back the duvet that matched his eyes, "Judge away."

Cyanine appeared satisfied and offered an approving nod, following suit and climbing into bed beside Phthalo. After some momentary awkward wriggling and repositioning of limbs, they finally managed to settle into a comfortable position.

"I can hear your heartbeat," Cyanine remarked idly as he relaxed with his head on Phthalo's chest, "it's weird."

"We can move or try something else,"

"I said it was weird, not that I minded it. Churros are weird, but that doesn't mean they're not awesome. I'll tell you if I'm uncomfortable. Are _you_ comfortable?"

Cyanine sounded more like his usual self now, and his co-leader couldn't help but smile in the dark, "Yes."

"Good."

Somewhere between the lungs' soft miracle of breath and the heart's steady rhythm of quiet clenching, they drifted into peaceful rest, lulled by the strange and wonderful, involuntary music of each other's existence.

* * *

Lulu sipped her coffee with a knowing grin directed specifically at the Vortain seated across from her.

"Oh God," Lard Nar began, "I know _that_ look."

"Got somethin' you wanna tell me? Maybe about you and a certain crewmember I saw goin' into your room with you last night?"

The captain blushed. "There's… there's really nothing to tell."

"Don't bullshit me, Cap'n. I known ya too long."

"…Okay, maybe we fooled around a little." He replied awkwardly.

"A little?"

" _Very little._ " he clarified firmly, "It's not like that with us… well, not yet."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I've got some shit I'm still sorting out." He replied a little harsher than he intended to.

Her expression immediately became one of concern. She knew better than to pry and ask what happened. "Anyone you need me to take care of?"

Lard Nar cocked an eyebrow, "why does everyone offer to take up violent revenge on my behalf?" He shook his head and sighed, "There were some things I didn't so much "deal with" as "entirely avoid" for quite a while, and I, um… ran into them again."

Lulu digested the captain's words, deciding how to best respond. "What do you need from me?"

"Just be you. I'm working on it with a professional, for once… but I finally don't feel so damaged and I just don't want to get into the details right now. Last night was really great," he said, with the sort of genuine smile she hadn't seen from him in years, "and I'd rather hold on to that."

She nodded, indicating her understanding. "Didn't mean to bring up nothin' bad." She offered apologetically. "Just glad you're finally movin' on. This new "friend" treats you right?"

"Yes. He definitely does. You'll be glad to know he's _taken care_ of the problem, so while I appreciate the offer, it's been dealt with."

"Good." She smiled, "I like him already."

"What about you? Anyone in your life?" Lard Nar asked.

Lulu chuckled, "You know how I feel about all that. My life ain't big enough to share."

Lard Nar looked disappointed before changing the subject, "So, what do you think about the doctor we picked up?"

"Kaff? He's awkward and spastic, but he's smart. Seems nice enough." She paused for a moment to take another sip from her mug, "He ain't really had a smooth transition. One minute he's on his lunch break an' the next, he's on the run. I'm the only thing that's been consistent for the poor guy."

The captain just nodded in response. Of course he had noticed the scientist following her around making moon-eyes since he'd arrived, but avoided the temptation to tease her about it. There were places friends knew not to go with each other, and that was one of Lulu's. He felt a momentary flicker of crushing sadness mingled with the sharp sting of guilt that manifested only in a compassionate softening of his eyes, so she assumed the emotion she saw there was meant for Kaff and not her.

Maybe it was the result of his night with Spleenk that moved him to such uncharacteristic sympathy. Once you experienced that kind of all-consuming, unconditional affection from someone who knew you at your most broken, yet loved you just the same without expecting anything more than you were willing to give (even if you couldn't give anything at all), it changed you. It was like hearing different covers of a song before discovering the original. It might sound strange at first because it wasn't what you expected, but after a few listens, became definitive… or something like that. The accuracy of the metaphor didn't matter; it was the concept that did.

Everyone ought to be loved like that, he thought, and he couldn't help but want the same for the cynical young woman he considered a sister at the table across from him. She deserved so much more than the lot she'd been given, and he was never more aware of that than he was now. He took a breath and allowed the anger to pass through him without revealing itself on his face.

"You talk with the Planet Jackers yet?" She asked, as if she sensed what he'd been thinking and sought to change the subject.

"Left a message. They should be calling back soon."

"Think we can get 'em on our side?"

Lard Nar fidgeted with his coffee cup. "It'll be a hard sell." He said, "They've got a treaty with Irk and nobody's violated it yet. We'll have to see."

"I'm sure you'll talk 'em into it." Lulu replied confidently, "You're good at that."

Lard Nar chuckled, "We must have very different definitions of 'good.'"

"You got everyone here to make nice with two of the most-hated people in the universe. The Planet Jackers are gonna be a walk in the park."

The captain gave a small smile, "Fair enough," he said, before being interrupted by his comlink. He sighed and answered it, "Captain, go."

"Got the Planet Jackers on secure line two in your office." Urr's voice explained.

"Give me three minutes." He replied, signing off before addressing Lulu, "Sorry."

Lulu was not bothered in the least, "Whatcha waitin' for? I'm a big girl, I can eat breakfast all by myself."

Lard Nar gave a sigh and a smile, grabbing his coffee and heading out of the cafeteria at a brisk pace. He narrowly avoided walking straight into a very oblivious Kaff, who still hadn't quite woken up. The near-collision startled the poor, confused doctor and it took him a few moments to get himself together before resuming his zombie-like shuffle toward the coffee and food.

Even in his daze, he was still able to spot Lulu from across the room and sat himself where the captain had previously been.

"'Mornin Sunbeam." She said with a small chuckle, "Don't look like you got a wink of sleep."

Kaff sighed and took a long sip of coffee. "That insane SIR unit decided to spend the entire night serenading the kid who rescued us… Dib, I think. It was awful."

Lulu chuckled, "Ya didn't just relocate? There's a lounge, ya know. Hell, ya could've taken a hospital bed."

Kaff glanced sideways, "I didn't want to be a bother."

"The robot's still singin'?"

"Would I be in the mess hall if he weren't?"

"Fair point. Well you ain't gonna do nobody no good in this condition," she replied, digging through two pockets before finding what she was looking for. "My room's just down the next hall from yours. Go get some sleep."

He hesitated for a moment.

"Go on," she said, sliding the keycard across the table, "I got shit to do."

He sighed gratefully, "Thank you _so_ much. I owe you."

She shook her head, "Next time I get injured, I'll collect the favor." She said as she stood, pulling lightly at the hem of her shirt to smooth it. "I'll see ya later, ok?"

Kaff nodded, putting the card in his pocket as he moved to stand as well. Lulu exited the cafeteria without looking back. Poor bastard was just too polite for his own good. The universe would take care of that sooner or later, and she was surprised to find that the thought made her a little sad.

* * *

Tak had requisitioned equipment for the upcoming mission the night before, and had begun sorting through it immediately upon waking up when a weary, agitated-looking Dib approached her. His eyes were sunken with fatigue and his mouth set in a stern, hard line. She ignored him and resumed her work until he spoke, interrupting her concentration.

"I know you hate me and that's fine so I'll be quick. I need petty revenge on Zim. I thought you might like to help."

Tak turned to him with a somewhat interested expression, "In retaliation for what?"

"He had GIR up all night singing to me. Got into my room through the ventilation system. I had to lock him in there and sleep in the docking bay."

Tak laughed, "Why the docking bay?"

"Because I didn't know where anything else was. I've only been here a few days…." He sighed.

The Irken considered this and saw his logic. Dib, as annoying as he was, was not the sort to be a bother (unless he _intended_ to be a bother, in which case, he excelled). She certainly didn't feel sympathy, or so she told herself, but she understood his frustration. She decided she'd hear him out. While she would admit that what had once been explosively homicidal rage had dissipated into a mere metaphorical bad taste, she couldn't resist an opportunity to indulge the small, lingering resentment she still harbored for Zim without being directly to blame. "All right. What do you have in mind?"

"Something small, but mildly aggravating and inconvenient. Like stealing one button off every shirt or rigging the scroll speed on his tablet just slow enough to be irritating but not obvious. Maybe setting up a speaker in one of the air vents in his quarters to play a really annoying song low enough to be frustrating. "

"I see you've given this some thought." She replied with a smile she couldn't hide. "The air vent's too easy. But… maybe we can get into the wall instead."

Dib's grin mirrored Tak's. "What do you need me to do?"

"We should set it up in his quarters on the ship, not here. We probably won't be on Malterra much longer, and it'll lull him into thinking you're not retaliating. You pick the song, and I'll get into the wall. If you _really_ want to get sophisticated, find me a wireless Pak monitor. I'll rig it so the song will start just as he's falling asleep." She explained, successfully containing her enthusiasm before turning back to her work. She certainly didn't want to seem _eager_ to help the boy who'd once helped thwart her ambitions.

Dib couldn't help but remember for a moment the sharp, cunning intellect that had enthralled him when they first met. He knew the girl he'd connected with back then did not exist; the Irken before him was not remotely like the human she'd impersonated. Still, there was a chance they could get along and perhaps forget the hostility they held for one another. Hell, he'd mostly mended fences with _Zim_ , of all creatures, so anything was possible.

It had been so long since he'd called anyone a friend, and while he was positive that Tak did not consider him one, he couldn't blame her because Dib still did not trust her enough to place her in that category either. Still, she was helping him when she didn't have to, and that was a start. Dib was _finally_ , for the first time in his life, surrounded by people who didn't dismiss or ignore him, and it felt good. Better than he'd ever expected, and perhaps that was the _strangest_ thing he had experienced so far.

He'd never been valued on Earth; even at Skool, he'd always been the kid everyone dreaded getting stuck with, regardless of his intelligence. Despite everything that had gone wrong on his first mission, he'd been successful, and people appreciated what he'd done. No one berated him for the choice he'd had to make. _Zim_ had actually tried to _comfort_ him, in his own alien way as best, Dib suspected, he could. As stupid as the prank had been, Dib would never admit that part of him was grateful that something had taken his mind off the Irkwatch officer he'd killed.

The thought still haunted him at the back of his mind, but he was hesitant about complying with the psych evaluation mandated by the captain. His experiences between the Crazy House for Boys and the Defective Head Meats Institute had been enough. Just the thought of it filled him with a trembling rage he was barely able to contain. The worst part hadn't been the condescension from the staff or the horrible smell of sweet, fetid rot mingled with antiseptic stinging his nostrils. It wasn't even the drugs that reduced him to a drooling, mindless idiot. It was the hopelessness that finally got to him.

He shook the memory from his mind. All that was gone now. Maybe it would be different here; so far, everything else was. He'd started to feel more and more like his own person since he'd arrived. The truth about his origins had ceased to nag at him, and the pain of his father's perceived disappointment was almost humorous now. What did his father's approval matter when his father was wrong? While he didn't deny that it would be quite humorous to offer a smirking "I told you so" to his slack-jawed and awestruck father, it just didn't matter that much at the moment. Perhaps if they survived whatever was to come, he could convince a few of his friends to land on Earth just for the hell of it. He filed the idea away in the back of his mind of later, as there were more paramount concerns. Like finding that wireless Pak monitor.

"Oh, and Dib," Tak called just as he turned to leave, "check your messages in about an hour or so. I may have something for that scrollbar."

Dib smiled and nodded, leaving her to her work. "Thanks, Tak. I owe you one."

Tak pleasantly resumed her previous task, thinking that maybe the kid wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

Purple woke first, a little later than usual. Had he been any other species, Purple would have been incredibly sore and regretted how much he had exerted himself sparring the previous day. As it was, his Pak had repaired the muscles he'd overworked and a few extra hours of sleep had prevented any ill effects. Red was still asleep and failed to stir even as his partner rolled onto his side and shifted the mattress.

He looked at Red, enjoying the calm, unperturbed expression on his face and allowed himself to indulge in a momentary flight of fancy. He wondered how Red would look ten years from now. The change would be gradual, so he was sure he'd hardly notice the process. He might observe it in a moment not unlike this this one, maybe in a little house on some fringe planet or moon. Light would pour through the slits in the blinds, glowing a rich, warm yellow and he would feel it on his face as he blinked himself awake. He'd turn around to face Red and see him sleeping much like he was now. Soft lines would have crept into his face by then, but only slightly, just around the mouth and at the corners of his eyes. Purple would smile at these, knowing his own face would reveal the same signs of age, and he would be grateful for having lived long enough to earn each one.

They would both have jobs, though Purple hadn't the faintest clue what kind of occupation would suit him. The thought of himself in various positions like working at a call center or selling space cruisers made him stifle a laugh. He didn't think he'd fair terribly well in customer service fields. Perhaps security consulting. He wasn't sure anyone outside his friends in the resistance would trust him with their personal safety in real life, but this was his imagination and did not need to conform to real-world constraints.

Red would have much better luck finding employment. He could work as a system analyst or a programmer, an engineer… any number of various things. They would share domestic responsibilities, which they would be thoroughly inept at for a while, but they'd blunder through. He imagined Red would likely try to barter chores with sexual favors and tried not to laugh. Purple would be happy to accept such favors; of course, he'd do so without agreeing to Red's proposition and the latter would still be on the hook for whatever task it was his turn to do. Their lives would be quiet and blissfully ordinary. Maybe Red would even come around to the idea of starting a family.

It was a nice thought, however unrealistic. Purple sighed as he climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb his mate. He had too much energy to lie still any longer and he would feel bad if his tossing and turning woke Red too early. He scribbled a quick note that explained where Red could find him and changed into the plain, gray athletic wear the doctors had given him. He stole one last glance at Red before he left the room and smiled.

He wished there were something he could do to thank his partner properly. He knew other species had gestures they used to express affection and gratitude, things like gift-giving and going on dates, but he wasn't sure how to implement them. Maybe he'd ask around.

He never allowed himself to forget that it was Red who'd gotten them here. If they survived the inevitable conflict against Irk, it would be because of Red. His decision to bargain with Lard Nar had been a gamble and could have gone wrong in any number of ways, but he'd made the right call. It had given them a future, even if it was only borrowed time. Purple swore that he would do whatever was necessary to extend that time as long as he could. He knew Red had gone into the resistance fully expecting to die, but things had changed. Yes, they had done terrible things for which there was a steep price that still needed to be paid, but he hoped perhaps that debt could be paid with life instead of death.

He saw Shloonktapooxis happily munching away on a plate full of what looked like an assortment of only breakfast meats and shrugged, approaching the table with his own tray.

"Mind if I sit with you?" Purple asked, though he doubted the grinning creature would object.

"Sure, man! It's been a while!" He replied, nodding his straw-like appendage in a welcoming gesture.

Purple sat, curiously eyeing the other's food choice before realizing he was looking at Shloonktapooxis, which somehow was enough of an explanation to satisfy his interest.

"So, I had an idea," he said, "if we can't get everyone on board with the name change, maybe we can make it look like there's a resistance _cell_ called Pirate Monkeys so they'll _think_ they're chasin' us, but then BAM, Resisty!"

Purple _still_ cringed at the sound of "Resisty", and Shloonktapooxis seemed to sympathize.

"I know, man, it's bad." He inhaled through his teeth, "It just doesn't strike the same kinda fear into a person as _Pirate Monkeys_. But, there's no accounting for taste in some folks." He shook his head before taking a massive bite of what looked like sausage.

"Why do we need something official?" Purple asked, somewhat dejected, "What was so bad about "the Resistance"?"

Shlooktapooxis made a motion resembling a shrug, "Captain said we needed a name."

"I mean, technically, we're a _rebellion_ working toward a _revolution_. Calling it a resistance itself is a misnomer."

"Whatcha mean?"

"Resistance is just opposing something. _Rebellion_ is when you try to overthrow a government, which is _revolution_."

"That's some deep shit, man."

"Eh, I try."

"I was thinkin' 'bout maybe settin' up a movie night for the crew when we get back on the ship as kind of a "welcome home" slash "let's all put our shit behind us" thing. You in?"

It occurred to Purple that while such an event could end quite poorly, it could also provide endless amusement (though likely not in the way the other alien intended). Shlooktapooxis looked so hopeful that Purple couldn't bear to crush his little cone-shaped dreams. "Sure. I'd be in. Red, too."

"Whoohoo, yeah! All right! This is gonna be _awesome_!" He cried as he began excitedly muttering himself with regard to the necessary preparations the endeavor would require.

For all his faults and oddities, Shloonktapooxis had a good heart and never shied away from being helpful. "I'm probably going to regret asking this," Purple said hesitantly, "but I have kind of a stupid question."

"I love stupid questions, man! They make you feel all smart and stuff!"

The violet-eyed former tallest sighed, lowered his voice, and tried his hardest not to look awkward (utterly failing at the latter), "…What, um, what do people do on dates?"

Shlooktapooxis screwed his face in puzzlement, "Don't take this the wrong way, Purple," he said, "but that's a _really_ stupid question."

Purple rolled his eyes, "How the hell am I supposed to know? I'm Irken, remember?"

"Yeah, but Red's your life-mate, dude. What do you need dating advice for?"

"We haven't ever, you know… been on a _real_ date, and I thought that since everyone but you is away for the night, it might be nice to, I don't know, surprise him, somehow?" He covered his face with a palm and made an exasperated noise, "Irk, I'm _so_ lame. I just want to do something nice for him while I have the chance. We wouldn't be here without him."

The moving gears in Shlooktapooxis's head seemed to finally click into place and his face lit up with gleeful comprehension, "Sure it's lame, but it's _so_ lame it's freakin' adorable, man! Awww, you _gotta_ do it!"

Purple momentarily considered the life choices that led him to believe bringing this to Shloonktapooxis was a good idea and vowed to learn from them.

"Dude, it'll _totally_ get you laid! I'll even do you a solid and move to a spare room on the next floor so you won't have to worry about makin' noise or nothing. I can sleep anywhere so it's no biggie."

Purple was about to remark that he could get laid virtually any time he wanted, but instead asked, "Are we really that loud?"

"Maybe the walls are just shit?" Shloonktapooxis replied, obviously not believing his own words.

Purple nodded sheepishly. "Um… we'll work on that."

"Anyway, as far as dates go, it's pretty simple. I mean, you just do something you both enjoy. Getting together for food is usually the go-to, but sometimes people watch vids, or go hiking… if you're _real_ serious, you put together a piece of furniture."

Up until that last one, Purple's general ideas about the concept had matched up with what Shlooktapooxis has been saying. "What?"

"Nothin' tests a couple like amateur carpentry." The other alien replied seriously, "It's usually the big step before people partner for life, I mean, on my planet at least." He sighed wistfully, as if recalling a personal experience. "You don't really know how strong your relationship is until you try to assemble a piece of furniture together."

"Yeah, I don't think we'll be doing that."

Shloonktapooxis chewed another mouthful of food, "Lost the love of my life over a shelving unit."

"I'm sorry." Purple replied, trying to be sympathetic. "It was… probably for the best.

"It was, man." He agreed with a sigh and an affirmative shake of his head. "Well, it was good talkin' to ya, Purple. I gotta go check in with some contacts and stuff. Let me know if ya need anything!"

"Will do, Shloonktapooxis. See you later."

The creature grinned and nodded before taking his leave. Purple watched him go and saw the large-headed human glancing around the cafeteria with the universal expression of someone looking for a place to sit. Purple realized the boy probably hadn't had much time to mingle since he'd arrived and decided that the least he could do was mitigate the awkward isolation of communal dining. He made eye contact and waved the teenager over. Dib nodded and moved to occupy the seat where Shlooktapooxis had previously been.

The first thing he noticed was how awful the boy looked. Concern and sympathy manifested on his face.

"Rough night?"

"Yeah."

"How are you adjusting to all this?" Purple asked conversationally, trying not to pry while still offering the boy an opportunity to discuss whatever might be bothering him.

"Not bad, all things considered." Dib replied, taking a sip of what tasted like but was almost certainly _not_ orange juice. He tried not to think about it. "Some weird uncanny valley experiences, but they're few and far between."

"Do you miss it at all? Earth?"

Dib shrugged, "Wasn't really much to miss. I'm sure I'll miss the sky in a few months, but the rest of it… I guess Zim was right, as much as I hate to say it," and it was clear from the distain in his voice that he did, "I didn't want to save the Earth; I just wanted people to care about me. Ugh, I really _do_ sound whiny."

Purple chuckled, "I won't tell."

"Good. Can you imagine what would happen if Zim found out he was right about something?"

" _Zim accepts your pitiful defeat, you woefully ignorant beast_? Or something like that?"

Dib laughed, "Don't forget the obligatory _bow before Zim's mighty intellect and weep at that which you cannot understand_!" He added, mimicking Zim's typically melodramatic hand gestures. "At which point, GIR flies across the room and starts licking his face or something."

Purple covered his mouth in an attempt to smother his own laughter, which was only becoming more intense and uncontrollable. He could picture Zim's moment of "evil" triumph shattered by the little blue-eyed robot glomping him with affectionate licks. Zim would hack and sputter in revulsion as he struggled to pry the relentless robot from his face. " _No, GIR! No licking! Bad, BAD GIR! You will cease this_ disgusting _affection at once!_ Oh god, I can see it perfectly!"

Dib shared an identical mental image and could not seem to catch his breath as he clutched his sides, aching with laughter. "And, and then h-he staggers off," Dib gasped, "and falls into an open closet!"

Purple was in equal hysterics as the scene unfolded in his mind, "A-and Red and I watch with mostly flat expressions, because of _course_ he called us to watch him gloat,"

"Then _you_ ask to change the channel," the human continued through the breaths he managed between bouts of laughter that shook his entire body, "which is when _I_ jump in, flailing my arms and shrieking about destroying your planet and,"

" _I_ make some insensitive and unthinking comment about your species in asking who you are,"

"And _I_ go off on some rant that sounds really threatening in my head, but totally doesn't work out loud,"

"Then in the background," Purple breathed, "Zim starts clawing his way out from the closet with two black eyes and h-his shirt torn to pieces," he paused as laughter overcame him for a moment, "a mop on his head, and, and one leg tangled in a bucket!"

"He passes out," Dib added in a voice choked by laughter, "and one of you ends the call!"

Purple wiped at his eyes, "Oh my god, you've got it down!"

"Wait, we were joking? I thought we were describing last week!"

The violet-eyed Irken was bracing himself with one hand on the table's surface and the other clutching his midsection, laughing so hard that he wouldn't have been surprised if his Pak shorted out. Dib had nearly fallen backwards, which only made the poor human laugh _harder_. Tears streaked his glasses and blurred his vision, and just when he thought he might recover, the sound of Purple's laughter sent him into hysterics anew.

The two had begun to draw the attention of other nearby tables several exchanges ago, and by now they were the focal point of the cafeteria, though neither could keep his eyes open long enough to notice.

Gradually, they managed to stifle their amusement collect themselves enough to quiet down to a reasonable volume, offering sheepish apologies to those they had disturbed.

"Oh come on," Purple said, addressing one particularly annoyed face at a nearby table, "I've had everything down to my sanity destroyed. Give me a break!"

The creature beside Angry Face slapped the latter's arm and shot him a glare. Angry Face seemed to finally understand and turned away, embarrassed.

"You're all right, Dib. I like you." Purple replied with a pleased expression before taking a sip of his coffee, "You're nothing like I expected from Zim's reports."

"And you're _surprised_?"

"No, not at all really." He giggled quietly.

"They were in all caps, weren't they? The reports." Dib asked with a grin that told Purple he knew the answer.

"Of _course_ they were."

"In the Irken equivalent of Comic Sans, I'm sure."

"If you mean a font that was used primarily for children that _everyone_ started to use until it became so annoying people started judging your intelligence for it, then yes. But bolded. With excessive punctuation. He wasn't gentle with the italics, either."

"No wonder his computer was perpetually in a bad mood."

Purple gave an amused cringe, "We had to hire someone to retype them… who had to be replaced every few months because they would inevitably bash their head into something solid when they couldn't take any more."

"Zim used to have that effect on people."

"He's really changed, hasn't he?"

The human's expression indicated he would not go quite that far. "It's more like he's still Zim, but with some social awareness. He's _still_ a jerk, but I think he's just doing it so I have something familiar." Dib explained.

"That's… strangely kind of him."

"Encouraging GIR to have an all-night karaoke party in my bunk is not what I'd call kind." The boy replied flatly.

"The operative word was _strangely_." Purple replied, correcting the human with a grin. "Are you going to be all right for the mission without sleep? Don't humans need that sort of thing?"

"I'll take a nap after breakfast." Dib replied, waving the concern away with a hand, "I'll be fine. I'm just there to keep Zim in check and prevent Tak from killing him. I assume it'll be nice for you to get some downtime while we're all off on assignments. Any plans?"

Purple sighed and hesitated a moment. Well, Dib had to be better than Shloonktapooxis. "You know a lot about Irken culture, or I guess, lack thereof, right?"

Dib nodded in affirmation, chewing on something that tasted like but was probably _not_ eggs.

"So you know we don't have any of those… what do you call them… 'courtship rituals'? Affectionate gestures, like gifts, or dates, or whatever to show someone else you care about them, or you're grateful for something they've done. I thought it might be a good time to do something like that for Red, but," he looked unsure, "I don't know what to do."

Had be been older and little more jaded, Dib might have shrugged the tall alien off as being sappy, but instead, the thought made him sad. The only gifts they'd ever been able to give were the pieces of their sanity surrendered with each acquiescence to cruelty that would spare the other suffering. They were in a different world now, a place where suffering was no longer currency, and Purple wanted something to show his partner that they could belong in it.

The thought that one or both of them might die without ever having shared the awkward normality of a date or a present was to Dib somehow more tragic than anything they'd endured yet. He felt compelled to help the tall, violet-eyed Irken sitting across the table from him, who looked as though he were waiting to be shut down or mocked. The human ran through ideas in his mind until finally, something stuck.

"Red… he likes lasers, right?" Dib asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.

"Yeah," Purple answered, "how'd you know?"

Dib's smile beamed as he began fishing through his pockets, "Zim told me a while ago. Talking about both of you helped get his mind off his all the stuff he was dealing with. Ah! Here it is!" He said, finally revealing a key ring from within his trenchcoat. Purple watched with interest and curiosity as the teenager removed the loop attached to a sleek black tube about three and a half inches long. "It's not much," Dib explained, "but I think it'll be perfect."

Purple lifted the object from the table and studied it uncomprehendingly.

"Point it at the table and push the little silver button."

Purple did as the human instructed, and his eyes went wide in amazement and an excited smile broke across his face, "It's a laser!"

Dib grinned in satisfaction, nodding his head. "I forgot it was even on my keys." He said, "It's not a weapon or anything; you just point it at stuff. I used it to drive Zim nuts in class." He chuckled in amusement at the thought; "He'd try to ignore it but sure enough, he'd lose his patience and dive after the little dot like a cat. Since I don't need to torture Zim anymore, it's yours."

"I couldn't," Purple said, trying to mask his disappointment, "I don't have anything to trade."

"It's okay, really," Dib replied genuinely, "I'd probably just throw it away."

Purple continued to look torn. The human could tell he wanted to take it, and at another point earlier in his life, he likely would have snatched it up without a second thought. Maybe this new self-consciousness came from being surrounded by people who had lost everything and largely so because of him. Maybe it was the fact that he and his partner now depended on the charity and kindness of others to survive. Maybe he was simply afraid to do anything that might resemble the impulsive, childish tyrant he'd become as Tallest. Then again, perhaps it was just pride. Dib couldn't say for sure.

"Just take it, Purple."

"Are you _sure_ there isn't anything I can try to get you in return? I have a fast-track approval for requisitions."

"Well," Dib exhaled thoughtfully, "you wouldn't happen to know where I could find a wireless Pak monitor, would you?"

* * *

He blinked his eyes open, confused for a moment as the world began to take shape around him and blurs of color became solid, recognizable objects. He was waking up of his body's own instinct, not in the throes of a nightmare, and for a moment, Cyanine was confused. The deep blue sheets that hugged his body reminded him of where he was and he smiled, glancing over his shoulder and finding Phthalo curled on his side, asleep.

His breath was slow and even, and Cyanine strained to hear it as he studied his co-leader's face. His mouth was neutral and the rest of his face appeared similarly relaxed, nothing pulled tight or tensed, no sign of stress or anxiety. His antennas were flat against his head as he slept, though not the way Cyanine remembered they'd been underneath his touch that one time.

They'd been tense then, almost vibrating against his fingertips as they yielded to the gentle pressure of his hand. He remembered the way Phthalo's breath had hitched; it had been a short, soft sound that curled tightly inside Cyanine's own body. He'd watched Phthalo's impossibly blue eyes flutter closed as he leaned into the contact and Cyanine's heartbeat had begun to pulse in his ears. He wondered if Phthalo had noticed Cyanine's hand beginning to tremble slightly as he held his own breath and slowed his progress to prolong the moment. Phthalo's shudder had been a shower of hot sparks through his bloodstream, igniting something wonderful and hot and confusing that Cyanine didn't understand but had nearly threatened his senses. As good as it had been to receive the gesture, Cyanine knew it had somehow been better watching Phthalo experience it.

He felt uncomfortably warm and swallowed hard as he rolled onto his back and took several deep breaths. He needed a shower. Preferably, a cold one.

* * *

Buir was still training Tenn how to properly use her sword when Purple reached the training wing. Purple noticed her form immediately and gave her an approving nod, indicating that he was impressed. Tenn grinned and Buir noticed her lapse in focus.

"You just lost three seconds to distraction." He lightly chided the smaller Irken, "Your form _is_ excellent, but it will be no help if your opponent has a blade to your throat."

Tenn inferred that this was as much a compliment as she would ever get from Buir, so she took it. He was the most demanding instructor she'd ever had, yet nothing about his approach was demeaning or discouraging. He never appeared frustrated with her mistakes or expressed the slightest disappointment in his face or his voice. He didn't seem to care how long it took her, or how many times she had to do something in order to satisfy him and move on. He encouraged her to ask questions and never lost his patience. This must be how it felt to be treated as a student instead of a child, she thought.

Every time she mastered one technique, Buir would show her something new that made her feel utterly inept. It was not a dream-crushing realization for her; in fact, it appealed to her competitive nature. He gave her footwork drills to practice on her own, and timed her once she'd memorized them so that he would be able to evaluate her progress. It also allowed them to work on what Tenn was most interested in: using the actual sword.

Buir had been thoroughly impressed with Tenn's tenacity. She was certainly a soldier; there could be no mistaking that, and as a result she was a disciplined and fast learner. He enjoyed sharing his favorite style of combat with another person, and it was quite a nice change after so many years of protecting Mei. That was not to say he ever regretted or disliked his assignment; in truth it had brought him a deeper understanding of himself and the universe. It was hard to spend time with someone like Mei and _not_ be moved to some kind of epiphany, no matter how small. Still, though, there was something to be said for getting out more often.

Purple found Skoodge engrossed in a simulation, and offered to spar a few rounds with him. Purple had been interested in fighting against a shorter opponent, as most of the Irkens he was likely to face in the future would be of significantly smaller stature. He knew his size gave him strength and power, but Skoodge was a smaller target and therefore more agile.

"Friendly match, no contact?" Purple suggested. "You can use the pak legs for height, but I won't use mine."

"Sure." Skoogde replied. He hadn't spoken to either of the former Tallests alone yet, and couldn't deny that he felt a degree of awkwardness. Purple however, showed no sign that anything was amiss. He actually seemed to be in a much better mood than when Skoodge had last seen him. He sighed and adopted a proper stance before they began the match.

As he anticipated, Skoodge was much faster than Purple had been prepared for. Purple took two quick punches before seeing a small window of opportunity to land a hit to Skoodge's left side. He did this as he kicked out the corresponding pak leg, and Skoodge lost his balance.

Skoodge rolled himself backward, out of Purple's reach and the taller Irken smiled as if he knew something Skooge didn't.

"What?" Skoodge asked, puzzled at Purple's smile.

Purple just shook his head, "Most people would've tried to get to their feet, but you did the smart thing and used the momentum to roll yourself to safety and regroup. It's exactly why we sent you to take Blorch."

The short alien's mind reeled as he held out a hand in the universal gesture meaning _stop_ , "Wha… I thought… you mean you _didn't_ do it because you hated me?"

Purple's expression contorted to reveal perplexity, "Fuck no. After the hell we got for Zim's misadventure during Impending Doom One we weren't taking _any_ chances."

"But that wasn't _your_ fault."

" _They_ certainly didn't think so."

Skoodge fell silent.

"Nobody could've taken Blorch but you. Of course, when you did, _They_ gave us shit about the way you looked and how your image might incite some kind of rebellion from the drones,"

"So you fired me out of a fucking _cannon_?" He asked, somewhat harshly.

Purple narrowed his eyes, "You survived, didn't you? You think that was an accident?" He shook his head, explaining "You were supposed to keep your head down on Hobo 13 until everyone forgot about you. I gave that random Irken your name so _They_ would still think you were dead. That way, we'd eventually be able to give you that starship we promised."

Skoodge was certain that he had never felt like so much of an asshole in his entire life as he did now. He hid his expression, knowing it would betray him.

"You deserved better, but giving you that would have gotten you killed so I did what I could. I owed you. Shit, I _still_ owe you."

Skoodge actually felt a little sick now. "You don't owe me anything."

"You know I wouldn't have gotten Red off Sirannah without your help." The sincerity in his expression was almost painful. "I didn't forget about that."

Skoodge had only been briefly involved in that rescue mission, but he'd supplied Purple with important materials, escorted them out of the atmosphere, and called for reinforcements. Perhaps that was why his perceived mistreatment had hurt so deeply. He had tried to talk Purple out of it at the time, but Purple was going whether Skoodge wanted to help him or not.

" _I'm not asking you to help me on the ground."_ Purple had said, _"I just need some explosives and an escort off-planet."_

" _This is insane!"_ Skoodge had countered, _"Red is my friend, too. I know how you feel,"_

" _No."_ His tone was surprisingly incisive and firm," _you_ don't _."_

Skoodge would have been hurt by such an interjection, but Purple's expression made it very clear that their friendship ran deeper than he could imagine. The hurt and fury in Purple's eyes blazed beneath his desperation and Skoodge realized that Purple didn't just want to help Red; he _needed_ to. The word "love" had not occurred to him in the moment, but it was something he seemed to understand even if he hadn't recognized it for what it was.

"… _Even if it does work and you get him out alive, they'll court-martial you."_

" _I know."_

Skoodge wanted to ask if Purple was all right with this, but he didn't have to. It was perfectly clear that he'd already thought it through.

He sighed. He knew he could face similar repercussions for assisting Purple with his plan, and there was no reason for him to take such a risk. His better nature scolded him for hesitating. Red and Purple were his friends and had been since smeethood. Red was being held prisoner, almost certainly being tortured, and Purple wanted to save him. Skoodge could help him with that, so it should have been an obvious decision.

But, the more rational part of his mind reasoned, there was no way to know if Red were even still alive. It had been nearly a week, and the Sirani were not generous or patient. Skoodge knew that they were not merciful either, and would likely try to keep Red alive and suffering until he broke and Skoodge doubted that Red would have broken, even after a week of torture. He couldn't understand why at the time, but he suspected that if Red were already dead by the time Purple got to him, Purple wouldn't be coming back either.

" _Please."_ Purple's voice was thin and desperate. From another species, such a plea would have elicited disgust and contempt. Someone as proud as Purple did not beg for _anything_ , and Skoodge had no idea how to respond. _"I can't let him die alone. Not like that."_

"… _All right. Link up with my ship and take the explosives. I'll back-date a report that says they were stolen at the last space station I docked at."_

Relief and gratitude flooded Purple's face, _"Thank you."_

As it happened, Skoodge had faced no consequences as a result of assisting Purple. Prior to Elite Command's interview with Red, it had looked like Purple would face charges of treason but after a few days of interrogating both parties, Red was awarded several medals and Purple got a small commendation of valor (after a Pak scan ruled out the possibility of his being a defect). Purple had later given his award to Skoodge as thanks, promising to look out for him in the future.

After being fired out of a cannon, it was hard to believe that Purple was keeping his word. Now, though, it was easy to see that the events he'd attributed to malice were actually for his own protection. This had slowly been dawning on him, but now struck full-force.

"You okay, Skoodge?"

"…N-no. Not really. I feel like," He stammered, "I should have trusted you. I should have noticed that your hand was being forced, that you'd never treat me like that… it was _right_ in front of me and I missed it." He fumed bitterly, giving a small sigh. " _They_ hurt you when they found out I was still alive, didn't they?"

"That was actually our fault. It was stupid and careless of us to send Zim to Hobo 13 while you were there, so we kind of deserved the consequences. Well, nobody really _deserves_ those kinds of consequences, but, you know, we kind of did it to ourselves." He took a breath, "I don't blame you for thinking the worst of us. It was probably for the best that you did. I just hope we can be okay now."

"Of course." Skoodge replied firmly, extending his open hand. Purple shook it gratefully and Skoodge felt lighter.

* * *

Red hadn't been surprised to find Purple absent from their bed by the time he woke up. He'd been so invested in training the day before that Red assumed he'd have made for the training wing as soon as he was conscious.

It was good to see him like that, Red thought. He hadn't been this eager, alive, and excited about something in more years than Red could count. Some long-lost spark had returned to him, and Red was surprised at how contagious his enthusiasm was. In a strange way, he felt himself falling in love with Purple all over again.

He smiled, dressed and readied himself for the day as he stepped out into the corridor and heard the door to their quarters automatically lock behind him. Down the hall he saw the door to the captain's quarters open, and was delightfully surprised when Spleenk stepped out.

Grinning in a fashion that would've sent most sane men running for the hills, he strode toward Spleenk. When the other alien saw him coming he just shook his head and bit his lip with a small smile, resigning himself to the fact that there would be no escape.

Red didn't say anything for a moment, just hovered there, radiating intense curiosity. "Good night?" He asked, without a doubt of what he meant to imply.

Spleenk sighed, pushing off the wall as he began to walk down the hallway. "If you _must_ know, yes," he replied with a small smile that grew larger as he continued, "and I have you to thank for that, actually."

Red was more than happy to accept Spleenk's gratitude, but didn't understand what he'd done to deserve it, "Really? Why's that?"

"Your solution to the problem of 'Nar's ex. I think it made him realize that everyone around here genuinely likes and respects him, and isn't just kissing his ass because he's the captain." Spleenk cringed, "I know, I know: something, something literally ass kissing. I'll choose my words more carefully next time."

Red chuckled in amusement before considering what Spleenk had said without the innuendo his mind made of the unfortunate phrasing and looked surprised, "He seriously didn't know that?"

Spleenk shrugged, "We all have our shit."

"Indeed we do."

Spleenk saw Red about to continue and held up a hand, cutting him off. "And before you ask, last night was mostly very innocent and I have no details for you."

"Mostly?" Red replied with a grin.

"Mostly." Spleenk answered, mirroring the expression with a wink.

Upon entering the combat training area, Red's plan had been to silently sneak up behind Purple and immobilize him, gently of course; he had no desire to injure his mate. Spleenk had warned him against this course of action as he trailed cautiously behind the Irken, but it was to no avail. Red was quick on the balls of his feet and stayed out of Purple's peripheral vision, cautiously advancing toward his target. Purple landed a light hit to Skoodge's head that knocked him out of the match before gripping Red's wrist without turning around, and in one fast, strong motion, he flipped the other over his shoulder and onto the mat.

Red was not hurt by the impact. He was wide-eyed and startled, catching his breath as Purple and Spleenk laughed.

"You should know better than to sneak up on me." He said, extending a hand to his partner. "You okay?"

Red took Purple's hand and got to his feet, "Just wounded pride, but nothing that won't heal. How'd you know I was there?"

" _I_ didn't even see him and I was facing that direction!" Skoodge remarked in a surprised manner.

"I caught his reflection in the locker over there." Purple replied, explaining as if it were nothing.

This was why Purple would always be the better fighter, all else being equal. His situational awareness and creativity made him superior in combat and a fantastic field operative. Red couldn't suppress how proud he was of his partner in that moment. _They_ had crippled him, permanently in some ways, and yet, _They_ had not taken away the edge that made him great.

"You're kind of incredible." Red replied, beaming with love and admiration.

Purple shrugged, "I know." His grin indicated that he was both pleased and joking.

"Well, now that I've thoroughly made an ass of myself, I'm getting breakfast." Red replied. "I'll be back for a rematch."

"A glutton for punishment, eh?"

"Only in bed, Dear."

Purple rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Skoodge. "You want to spar another round?"

"Sure." Skoodge said, making a valiant effort to ignore the innuendo.

* * *

Red and Spleenk sat down in the mess hall, finding it sparsely-populated. Malterra's medical staff all worked in shifts, and the early-risers had already been at work for a few hours now. The food here was far better than what was served on the ship, and it surprised Red every time he sat down to eat.

"You know, once the war starts people are going to fake injuries just to get sent here for the food." Red commented.

"Now _there's_ an idea." Spleenk joked. "They keep a huge hydroponic garden here, a bunch of them, actually. Hard to do that on a ship."

Red thought about it and agreed.

"So, how's your recovery going?"

"Wonderful." He said, and Spleenk could see that he meant it. "I mean, it's hard, and it's exhausting, but it feels great. Oddly empowering."

"I don't think it's odd at all." Spleenk replied, pausing to eat the food on his fork and swallow before he continued, " _They_ crippled you. Made you physically unable to fight back. Now you can. They failed and you won. It's a small victory, sure, but it means they can be beaten."

"You know, I think I might actually believe that." He said with a small genuine smile that made Spleenk hopeful. "What do you think the odds are we intercept the vaccine shipment successfully?"

"I think we'll pull it off." Spleenk said, "Tak managed to hijack a Void Ship without any issues, so I think she could take a cargo vessel in her sleep. 'Nar has known Lulu a long time and vouches for her. If they aren't able to take the ship, they'll definitely destroy it. The latter's not ideal, but it's better than nothing."

Red nodded in agreement, "What about your assignment?"

Spleenk sighed, "Don't know. We have very limited intel about Iris and what we know is centuries out of date. It's not enough to build a solid profile on."

"I can't imagine she'd refuse joining up after what she's lost."

"Grief is… complicated." Spleenk explained.

Red considered Spleenk's reply seriously and sobered, "You're right." He said, fidgeting with the base of his coffee mug, "… I don't think I could come back from that."

"There aren't words that can really do justice to what it feels like." Spleenk offered. He turned away so Red barely caught a glimpse of his expression and cleared his throat, quickly recovering.

Red did not know enough about Spleenk to piece his reaction together in a way that would allow him to infer anything meaningful. He assumed Spleenk must have been remembering patients he'd counseled in the past and continued to listen.

"It eats you alive until there's nothing left but the grief." He said. The conversation did not trigger that aforementioned grief in a way that it might have long ago, but it was still unpleasant and heavy.

Spleenk looked up and immediately sensed that Red was deeply afraid; Red was not afraid of Spleenk, but the subject was one that profoundly upset him. Spleenk studied the Irken whose eyes examined the glassware in front of him as if it might grant him the ease he could not find. He thought about Red's exact words: _I don't think I could come back from that_ , and understood.

Red must have considered the idea of children in the past, and kept it as a sort of fantasy he could indulge in when things got bad. He could go there in his mind and find something to look forward to when everything had gone to hell. He didn't have to worry about the complications that imaginary child might bring, because he knew it had never been a real possibility.

Spleenk couldn't help but wonder what it must feel like to be in Red's position. He'd spent his entire adult life under the thumb of a murderous sadist and must have expected he'd die there. As awful as it was, there was a certainty in it and there was a comfort, no matter how perverse, in certainty. Nothing was certain now, and the possibilities were endless. He'd begun to believe that the Resistance stood a chance and it made him ask questions of himself for which he had no answer.

"It's okay to be scared." Spleenk said compassionately, "The universe is infinite and strange and usually, something in it is trying to kill us. Having kids is a life-changing choice and it should be treated like one. With that in mind, you shouldn't let fear make it for you; and you sure as hell shouldn't be worrying about that decision _now_. I'm glad that you have faith in the war effort, but you should probably focus on winning it before worrying about whether to turn the office into a nursery."

Red looked at Spleenk, processing, with no small degree of surprise, what the other alien was saying. He took a sip of his coffee and sighed, "You know, I'd be so much less fucked up if I'd met you earlier in life."

"If you'd met me earlier in life, I'd have charged you by the hour." He replied with a smile.

* * *

Tak knocked on the door to the captain's temporary Malterra office before she entered. Tak offered no salute, but he did not expect or require one from her and invited her to sit.

"The Planet Jackers have agreed to steal the enemy base." Lard Nar explained. "They did a thorough investigation of that rock and as far as the treaty database is concerned, it's fair game. Of course, I wasn't going to clue them in otherwise."

Tak grinned at the captain's strategy, "Good. Were they suspicious at all?"

"A little. We've been trying to negotiate an alliance for months and it's clear that they want to be on the winning side. They won't break their treaty with Irk, but they're very interested in relocating their homeworld. Apparently, their agreement with Irk prevents them from doing that. Anyway, I cleared things up by telling them I was just doing them a favor, and they should remember who their friends are when war comes."

Tak nodded. "I don't trust them, Captain."

"Neither do I." He said. "Which is why the location I gave them _isn't_ the one we're targeting."

The female Irken gave a conspiring smile and crossed her legs, pleased with the captain's decision. "If they take the bait, we've got an ally, and if there's an Irken dreadnaught waiting there, we know where to drop false information. Good plan." She said, "So, is destroying the real base still part of the mission?"

"No, not unless they notice the shipment's been disrupted. Just do some through recon. I know that won't be easy, but I figure if there's anyone who might be able to do it, it's you."

Tak noticed that there was no condescension in his reply, nor did it seem that he was pandering to her. "They have to be using some kind of satellite surveillance, even if it's just orbital. I can probably get into it with one of my bugs, but it depends on the security measures. If that doesn't work, I can probably spoof the MAC address and get in that way. It'll take more time, but I know my way around Irken technology. That should give us something to go on."

"Good." The captain said with a satisfied nod, "I trust you to manage the risks involved. I can't stress how important it is for us to stay under the radar."

Tak studied the captain for a moment, "You've got something bigger planned as a follow-up, don't you?"

"It's a bit more nebulous than a plan at this point," he said, "more of an idea. But yes, to answer your question."

"Good. I'll review the transcript logs from the Vort mission to make sure we aren't thrown any surprises. I've already sent some probes out there, so hopefully they'll give me something useful. In the meantime, I assume the location you gave the Planet Jackers is one we have eyes on."

Lard Nar smiled, "Of course."

Tak grinned. She'd been hesitant to permit herself to feel excited about the position she'd been given, or the responsibility that came with it. She'd been convinced something or someone would steal it from her, the way everything in her life had always been. She realized now that nothing in the Resistance had been _given_ to her at all; she'd _earned_ it. The trust the captain and crew placed in her competency and skill was because she deserved it. She hadn't needed to resort to subterfuge or sabotage to get it, either.

At first, she had thought them all naïve for allowing her into their inner circle without so much as a loyalty oath or personal sacrifice. Now, she understood they'd put her there to keep a closer eye on her. She had made the mistake of assuming she was better than they were, more cunning, more clever, and more ruthless, when the truth was that she'd been outnumbered and unarmed the whole time. They never made her feel that way, though. Instead, they had given her a job and made her feel more useful than she had in her entire life serving Irk. They had _showed_ her the truth and lived up to their word while Irk offered only lies and empty promises. These people were smarter than she'd given them credit for, and had proved worthy of her respect.

"Thank you, Captain."

"You're welcome." He replied, "I know you've got work to do, so I won't keep you any longer."

She nodded and stood, starting toward the door.

"Just one other thing, Tak…" the captain said, "don't let Lulu bring explosive grenades."

Tak chuckled, "I take it there's a story there?"

"With Lulu, there's _always_ a story." He replied with a shake of his head and a perplexing expression that was half exasperated and simultaneously half amused, "Just ask her about the _Monarch's Crown_."

"Gotcha."

* * *

Phthalo awoke to the sweet, rich smell of something he recognized as maple and drew in a deep breath as he yawned and stretched, blinking his eyes.

"I got a little restless so I ordered us some breakfast and took a shower. I used yours because I didn't want you to wake up and think I'd left you alone. I hope you don't mind."

Phthalo recognized Cyanine's voice and smiled, propping himself into a seated position. "No problem! Thanks, Cy. I didn't mean to sleep so long."

"Phthalo, what have I told you about apologizing for automatic bodily reflexes?"

The blue-eyed Irken laughed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, "All right, I take it back. I'm _not_ sorry."

Cyanine smiled, "Good."

Phthalo discreetly popped one of the saliva-activated tablets used in place of toothbrushes into his mouth and followed it up with a sip from the cup on his nightstand (no corporeal race had yet to evolve away morning breath) while Cyanine laid out the food he'd ordered.

"Did you sleep ok?" Phthalo asked.

"Yeah," Cyanine nodded, "best I have in a long time. What about you?"

"Pretty much the same." He replied. "It… was really nice having you here." He tried to fight the blush spreading across his face and failed miserably.

Cyanine couldn't help but smile. "I thought so, too."

Phthalo struggled for a moment to articulate what he was feeling; there was something he very much needed to say but the right words eluded him. It was almost like snatching at air. He quickly became frustrated and it showed on his face. "There's something I want to tell you, but I don't know how to say it."

Cyanine took Phthalo's hands in his own, "Just relax, Phthalo. When you figure it out, I'll still be here."

Phthalo nodded gratefully and the green-eyed Irken squeezed his hands gently for a moment before releasing them and handing his co-leader a plate. "I did the best I could," he explained, "I picked your favorites from the delivery app and had everything sent to both our rooms, just so nobody got suspicious."

"That was smart." Phthalo said before his expression became disappointed, "I guess we'll have to be careful about spending too much time together."

"Maybe." Cyanine replied regretfully, "But I think as long as we don't make it obvious, nobody will ask questions."

Phthalo brightened considerably; not only at his co-leader's reply, but Cyanine's use of the pronoun "it" as he referred to the nameless thing between them. Whatever it was, Cyanine acknowledged it, and that was good. At the very least, this thing was mutual. "That's true. Nobody around here asks very many questions about… anything, really."

"Maybe that's how it got so bad." Cyanine mused.

"What do you mean?"

The green-eyed Irken sighed, frowning. "Everyone just accepts what we tell them. If we say it, it must be true. No one's ever asked a Tallest to explain the reason for something, or disagreed with what was said. Even when the few independent news stations out there criticize Irk, the IENN _always_ finds a way to justify or deflect it. Hell, that guy… I can't even remember his original name now, but he _still_ calls himself 'Skoodge' and claims he conquered Blorch because Tallest Purple said so! They all _saw_ the real Skoodge and watched the rules get changed right in front of their eyes, but no one said anything. They all went along with it, calling the other guy 'Skoodge' like it had always been his name. Like history _hadn't_ been rewritten. You don't get to that point all of a sudden."

Phthalo was quiet for a moment. He tried to remember a time when Irkens hadn't willingly gone along with what the Tallest said and came up frighteningly empty. "I guess the only time anyone was sort-of _close_ to disagreeing openly was with Miyuki's withdrawal from Vort."

"Nobody disagreed with _her_ ; they went after that other guy, the general who talked to the outside media." Cyanine reminded. He took a deep breath, "I'm sorry for ranting. It's just hard to think about what I have to do today without wishing that the person I'm giving orders to would ask me why."

Phthalo understood the emotion, but not why Cyanine had referred to himself. "You don't have to do anything, Cy. I can take this one."

Cyanine was quiet. He fought the urge to shut down and the dismissed the instinct that told him to push Phthalo away instead of reaching out as he spoke, "If I let you do it, I'm always going to feel like you did because I fucked up so badly last time. If you let me do it, I'll be terrified I've missed something. If I _do_ miss something and they hurt you again, I don't know how I'll live with myself."

Phthalo just took his co-leader's hand. "I'm worried you'll blame yourself for what happened last time if you let me take this one, but I don't want you to feel like you're obligated because I hold you responsible or something. I'm afraid that if I fuck up you'll think I did it on purpose to get even, or that you deserved it."

Silence sat between them, though not as heavily as they thought it would. There was something about their mutual honesty that made the quiet seem less oppressive. They did not look at each other yet, but neither released the other's hand.

"Together, then?" Cyanine asked, finally turning his face to make eye contact with Phthalo.

"What do you mean?" The blue-eyed Irken asked curiously.

"They gave us _both_ the order this time. They never said which of us has to carry it out. There aren't any rules, I mean, as far as I've seen, that prevent us from doing this together. This way, if we both fuck up, we'll know neither of us could have planned for it. We won't be able to blame ourselves or each other, no matter who they hurt."

Phthalo appeared to be struggling with something. "And you're _sure_ it won't make people start rumors?" He could've sworn his co-leader looked hurt for a brief second, but the emotion vanished between one blink and the next.

"Would it really be so bad if they did?" Cyanine asked quietly, looking away.

"Of course not." Phthalo replied. "I don't care what anyone thinks; _your_ opinion is the only one that matters to me."

Phthalo remained oblivious to what Cyanine had meant, and even though something so small and quite frankly stupid should not have made him smile, the green-eyed Irken couldn't help it.

"It's not like anyone can possibly think less of me than _I_ already do." Phthalo mumbled.

Phthalo had told him some time ago that he'd had all the mirrors removed from his quarters, but Cyanine had somehow forgotten until he'd gone to use the shower earlier. While the green-eyed Tallest didn't enjoy the sight of himself and took as few opportunities as possible to stare philosophically into reflective surfaces and contemplate his identity (or lack thereof, these days) as possible, they had a practical use, even if only to make sure there was nothing stuck in his teeth. He had been sure the other Irken was exaggerating, or at least had kept _one_ for practicality's sake. Learning that he hadn't, and then hearing Phthalo speak so disparagingly about himself in earnest, disturbed Cyanine.

How could Phthalo _not_ see in himself what Cyanine did? He felt a strange, sudden compulsion to _do something_ , to smack Phthalo lightly and grab his shoulders, give him a firm but gentle shake and shout in a demanding, serious voice _"don't you_ see?! _You're the only thing that makes me_ not _want to die! I was_ this close _to being ready to do it, and you went and gave me something to care about! How can you say you're worth nothing when you're the only thing I'm living for?!",_ but breakfast was probably not the appropriate venue. Smacking the other probably wouldn't help, and he knew he could never _really_ raise a hand to Phthalo, even if the gesture were purely playful.

He'd never get the words right, for another thing. Sure, it sounded good in his head a few seconds ago, but by the time the language traveled from his brain to his lips, it would hardly resemble the sentiment he'd hoped for. Hell, it probably wouldn't be _speech_ ; most likely, he'd manage a series of awkward noises and stammering grunts that had more in common with his primordial, long-dead, Irken ancestors at a time when they'd only just discovered that rocks could be used as tools but still hadn't achieved the balance to walk upright.

The best he could do was, "Don't think that way about yourself" in a gently admonishing voice. He'd find a way to make the blue-eyed Irken understand eventually. He just needed time to figure out how.

Phthalo ignored his co-leader's comment and continued to explain, "I'm worried about what _They_ think. They told us not to lose public's trust. If we spend all day together, people are bound to make comparisons."

"I think it's easier to explain making joint decisions than why one of us always seems to be doing something without consulting the other. It's stranger if we _don't_ work together. It would look like a conflict of leadership, and that's the sort of thing that scares people. Besides, nobody thought anything about Red and Purple until they died. _That's_ when the gossip started."

Phthalo seemed to consider this thoughtfully.

"Their arrangement seemed to work just fine, so I'm sure our 'supervisors' won't care. And as long as we don't go to our rooms at the same time every night and leave separately in the mornings, no one will have a reason to assume anything."

The blue-eyed Tallest relaxed considerably with a small smile. "You'd think I'd remember that, being the terrible _gossip whore_ I am." He joked.

Cyanine laughed, grateful the tension had broken and the subject was settled. "I never said you were _terrible_. To be honest," he said, in a more casual but somewhat hesitant voice, as if he were confessing something embarrassing, "I was afraid you were trying to flirt with me at the time."

Phthalo stared disbelievingly at his co-leader, "Yes, because that's a totally normal thing to do a few days after being physically and psychologically mangled by nameless crazy people."

"Well, you basically said: 'hey, the guys who used to have our jobs were totally into that forbidden biological stuff; wanna talk about it?' What was I _supposed_ to think?"

Phthalo blushed and shook his head, "When you put it like that… yeah, I guess it sounds kinda bad." He sighed, "It's just, I didn't know anything about you. All we had in common was the armor, and _that_ didn't seem like a topic for casual conversation."

The green-eyed Tallest made a noise in agreement, ruminating a bit further on Phthalo's words. "Come to think of it, I still don't know much about you… before this, I mean." He said, cutting into a strange type of breakfast cake with square-shaped depressions in it.

Phthalo shrugged with a small sigh, "That may as well have been a different person." He stared with curious interest at Cyanine's plate, "What are you eating?"

Cyanine smiled excitedly, "They're called waffles," he said, cutting a wedge in half. He used his fork and knife to support it in a manner that looked very human, and added it to Phthalo's plate. "Zim actually discovered them, or his robot did, or something, I don't know. They're really good; you should try them with syrup. Like a crispy pancake, but lighter."

Phthalo shrugged and cut a small bite for himself with the side of his fork; he still had not fully adjusted to using utensils with only two fingers. He turned toward Cyanine with pleased surprise, "That was delicious!"

"Do you want the other half?" He asked, "We can share your pancakes."

"Sure! I mean, if you don't mind."

"I wouldn't have offered if I did, Phthalo." He said, cutting another wedge and pushing it to the side of his plate, gesturing for the other to take it. "You didn't answer my question, by the way. Tell me about yourself. What did you do before this?"

"Went through the Academy, same as you," he replied, cutting his stack of pancakes in half before trying to devise a method that would transport them to Cyanine's plate intact. "Served on a combat ship as an Elite and ended up a First Lieutenant. I probably would've applied for Captain, but got selected to replace the Invader who died trying to take Lucinia. Was working on that when they called me for the Measuring. I used to be outgoing. Not so much anymore, though. What about you?"

"Special operations. Some tactical sniping. Mostly just tactical _watching_. Had a great unit, though. We all went our separate ways after our Captain disappeared and the General we were under got reassigned. They were… close. Like Red-and-Purple close, I think. I didn't see it then, but I get it now."

Phthalo nodded in understanding.

"It never mattered to any of us; as far as I know, nobody ever _said_ anything about it. They did their jobs and kept us from getting killed, so what did we care? Anyway, they moved me to intelligence after that. Got bumped to Invader and assigned Shiloh. Had just started there when they called me back. Other than that… I'm not too bad at obstacle golf."

Phthalo smiled, "You'll have to teach me to play sometime. I'm _awful_."

The green-eyed Tallest chuckled lightly, "Well, at least now that you're Tallest, nobody can call you out for cheating if you move the ball."

"Ah, yes, in spite of its detriment to our society, our assumed infallibility means I can win at any game I want just by saying so."

"See? Not so bad after all."

It was clear Cyanine was joking, but Phthalo was strangely grateful for the humor (even if it was a bit dark). These days, there were _only_ dark things to make light of, and they had to get through it somehow. Maybe they didn't deserve to be happy, and maybe it wasn't fair in the larger scheme of the universe, but _nothing_ was fair, so why should they refuse what little comfort came their way?

* * *

The captain glanced at his terminal clock after Tak had closed the door behind her and noted the time. Spleenk and his team would be heading out in search of Iris soon. He couldn't tell if his opinion of their mission was clouded by his innate pessimism or concern for Spleenk. He supposed that if she were still alive, Iris could offer them some insight into their enemy that might help them make sense of the bigger picture, or offer some clues as to a weakness they could exploit; but he kept wondering just how useful her information would be. Things changed faster than he could keep up with as it was, and she had been from a very different world. Would any of her knowledge even be applicable?

Of course, he didn't voice this concern to Spleenk. As much as he didn't want the other alien to go, he knew that Spleenk might view the mission as a way to make his daughter's death mean something. If the knowledge of such a loss could bring an asset on board, there might be a deeper peace to be had. How he'd found any peace at all was still something Lard Nar couldn't understand, but deeply admired nonetheless.

He recognized Spleenk's knock instantly and smiled as he invited the other into his office.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there this morning; I wasn't sure when the Planet Jackers would call back and I didn't want to wake you."

"You've got a resistance movement to run, and you left a note." Spleenk said with a smile, "I'm not _that_ high-maintenance."

Lard Nar laughed, "Spleenk, you're nothing close to high-maintenance."

"I can be a bit of a drama queen when I want to." Spleenk admitted with a playful shrug.

"Even so, I'm glad to have you around."

Spleenk paused a moment and smiled, the remark clearly meaning something deeper than surface banter. "Good. I'm glad to be here."

The silence hung heavily between them, filled with strange anticipation and the weight of everything unsaid. _"Thanks for last night"_ seemed to cheapen what had happened between them, and utterly failed to articulate what it meant. By conventional expectations, it had been nothing noteworthy, but such metrics were irrelevant to their relationship. Lard Nar allowing Spleenk into his bed was a significant enough step on its own, and the fact that he had kissed Spleenk without reservations was even more so. That he had touched Spleenk willingly and of his own initiative, even if it was only through clothes, had been completely unexpected and more than Spleenk could have hoped for.

Lard Nar offered a small prayer of thanks when Spleenk spoke first, glad he would not make an ineloquent, stammering idiot of himself. He was certain that if it had been left to him, he'd have sounded like a teenager.

"You're comfortable with where we are, then?"

"Yes," he nodded, "are you?"

"Of course." Spleenk replied with a warm, genuine smile that wore away at the captain's resolve.

"You're making it very difficult for me not to kiss you right now."

Spleenk's smile grew, and he practically beamed with happiness. The captain couldn't help but smile back, quietly amazed that he could provoke such joy in someone else.

"Is there any reason why you shouldn't?" Spleenk asked coyly, leaning across the captain's desk.

"None that I can think of." Lard Nar replied, meeting Spleenk halfway for a kiss. He could feel Spleenk's smile against his own lips and a giddy lightheadedness stole his senses for a moment. He couldn't help but laugh as they withdrew, and Spleenk, still smiling, looked confused.

"Knowing I'm enough to make you _that_ happy just… well, it feels really good." Lard Nar explained.

"Good." The other alien replied in a satisfied fashion.

Familiar voices from outside became audible as their owners drew closer to the door, finally breaking the moment between Spleenk and Lard Nar with a knock.

"Those two have the _worst_ timing." The captain groaned.

"Speaking of which…" Spleenk began, scratching an invisible itch behind his neck and looking uncomfortable. "Red, um, maybe kinda saw me leave your room this morning."

The captain raised an eyebrow, "Maybe kinda?"

"... Kinda definitely," he admitted with a cringe.

Lard Nar sighed, shaking his head with a mildly amused expression and shrugged, "Oh well. He was going to find out sooner or later, I guess."

"He was?"

"Well, we _are_ dating, aren't we?" The captain replied, "I'm not gonna make an announcement or anything, but I'm not going to hide it."

Spleenk glowed with happiness again, and Lard Nar decided he could easily get used to that.

The knocks came again, more impatient this time.

Lard Nar sighed, "I was hoping they'd take the hint and just come back later."

"It's probably for the best. I've got a long ride ahead of me and the faster I get out to wherever we're going, the faster I'll get back to you."

"Be safe." Lard Nar said, concern heavy in his voice.

"I will." Spleenk said, taking his hand and gently squeezing it in one of his own. "You too. Bring me back a souvenir from Mars."

"It's barren." Lard Nar chuckled, "But I'll be sure to look for any remaining gift shops."

Spleenk laughed too, quickly leaning in for a brief kiss. He gave the captain's hand one last squeeze before letting go, which was harder than he'd expected.

"All right, all right! Come in!" Lard Nar called grudgingly.

The captain was immediately concerned by the wide, almost shit-eating grin that spread over Red's mouth as the Irken glanced from Spleenk to the Vortian.

"So _that's_ why it took you so long to let us in…" Red mused, eyeing both Spleenk and the captain's desk suggestively.

Purple and Lard Nar both looked deeply confused while Spleenk, suddenly understanding, shook his head.

"It's not what you're thinking." Spleenk replied.

" _Sure_ it isn't." Red answered, clearly not believing Spleenk.

"It's _really_ not what you're thinking."

Red gave a mock nod in agreement, "Next you'll be telling me you're not the kind of guy who'd do that."

"Oh, no; I'm _exactly_ the kind of guy who'd do that. And I absolutely would've used the opportunity to mess with you."

Red sighed, foiled. "Neither of you is any fun."

"We're _plenty_ fun." Spleenk replied, "We just need some time."

Red met Spleenk's eyes as the alien spoke, and the Irken understood. He nodded slowly and his face turned apologetic. "That… was shitty." He said, in reference to his teasing proclamation. "I'm sorry. I just want both of you to be happy."

"I know you do." Spleenk smiled, "Don't worry about it." Then, like nothing had happened, the four-armed alien addressed everyone, "Well, I'm off to the edge of the known universe. See you all in a few days!"

"Bye, Spleenk!"

"Good luck!"

"Be careful!"

Purple turned toward his partner. "Would you like to tell me what the hell that was?" He asked once the door had shut. Lard Nar's expression echoed his sentiment.

"It was stupid. The joke didn't even make sense." Red lied.

Purple glanced at Red skeptically.

"What joke?" The captain asked.

The red-eyed Irken sighed, "I know he likes you, so I thought it'd be funny to tease him about being alone with you and keeping us waiting." It a far less explicit version of truth, but he hoped it would satisfy the captain.

"The door was unlocked." Lard Nar replied, clearly still trying to grasp what Red had intended to imply and failing.

Red sighed, "I know. That's why it wasn't funny." He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, "Just forget about it; I'm off my game today. I've already been thrown over Purple's shoulder, had a deeply emotional breakfast, and lost all five sparring matches."

"Why'd you throw him over your shoulder?" The captain asked Purple, somewhat shocked.

"He snuck up behind me." The violet-eyed Irken explained casually. "He's learned his lesson."

"Yes. Purple's very good at teaching discipline."

Purple just rolled his eyes, "Really?"

"I had to redeem myself for the last joke that fell flat."

"The fact that we're even having this conversation makes me inclined to disagree he's taught you _anything_ , Red." Lard Nar quipped as his cringe faded.

Purple chuckled quietly, "Nice comeback." He nudged Red's arm, indicating Lard Nar, "He's getting pretty good."

"I know. They grow up so fast…" Red teased.

"Anyway," Purple said, turning his attention to the captain, "you asked us to stop by."

"Yes, I did. I wanted to go over some of the procedural details for while I'm gone, but most importantly," he continued, "I need you to put together some tactical options for our next mission."

Both Irkens immediately focused their attention on the captain as he elaborated further.

"You know as well as I do that we can't allow these bioweapons to exist. Once we secure a sample of the pathogen for Kaff to work with, I want to take their production facilities out. All of them. We can't risk them relocating operations or speeding up their timetable. I need you to figure out how we do it."

"I thought we agreed it was best to stay quiet." Purple replied.

"I'm hoping we can still do that."

Red offered a skeptical look toward the captain, "Yeah, so I'm not seeing how they won't notice the destruction of an integral piece of their plan."

"Right now, as far as they know, we're a just bunch of idiot rejects with severely limited resources and no idea _They_ even exist." The Vortian explained, "It's probable they'll suspect us, but they won't be able to confirm it because you're going to cover those bases."

Red did not appear convinced.

"What, Red? I hardly expect _you'd_ have trouble finding all the bases before you finish." The captain retorted, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

Every planet, it seemed, had its own version of what humans called baseball, in much the same way that every planet had its own variation of Earth's Sweedish Meatballs. While certain aspects of the game varied across cultures, the universal constants seemed to be hitting a ball with a stick, sprinting to a "safe zone", and completing a circuit of these zones to score a point. Unsurprisingly, it had become a popular sexual euphemism throughout the known universe.

Purple sighed, "Not you too, 'Nar."

" _You've_ got no right to act innocent after yesterday's meeting." Lard Nar reminded the violet-eyed Irken.

"No one was supposed to find out!" Purple protested, almost pouting.

"And I'm _quite_ familiar with how to score, thank you very much."

Purple shrugged teasingly, "You could use a little help at second base."

"Oh really?" Red asked, his voice sharp and skeptical, "Because the only complaint I've ever heard has been _"don't stop"_. I guess I just can't hear how dissatisfied you are over the sound of your screaming."

"I'll have to side with Red on this one." The captain replied. "I don't imagine the two of you could possibly get any louder."

"The best part is he's actually holding back." Red grinned, nodding at his mate.

"Oh come on; are we _really_ that loud?" Purple asked, folding his arms, "I feel like you're all blowing this way out of proportion. Maybe the walls are just shit?" It didn't sound any more convincing coming out of his own mouth than it had Shloonktapooxis's.

"And maybe I'm a lemon jumping in and out of a gin and tonic," Lard Nar laughed, "but I'm willing to overlook your vocal enthusiasm if you can come up with a viable plan of attack."

"How many targets are we talking?" Red asked.

"Thirty-one."

Purple frowned thoughtfully. "What's the timeline?"

"They're expecting the first batch in a week. I know you're working with more variables than constants right now, and things will change depending on how Tak's intercept plays out. I'm not asking you to have everything figured out, but I need some ideas. It's too important. If we can pull this off, it'll make them vulnerable. _We'll_ be the ones with the upper hand for once, and they'll be scrambling around in the dark."

Red understood, "You're hoping _They'll_ turn on each other."

Lard Nar nodded. "Pretty much. Either that, or we push back their timeline; both of which work to our advantage. We've got an army and we're growing, but we're not ready to go against Irk yet. Once we find a way to deal with those sweep cannon-moons and turn this into a conventional war, we'll be able to make a stand. But that's phase two."

"Does this phase have a name yet?" Purple asked cautiously.

"What? No; it's just a concept."

"Good! Can we _not_ name it anything?"

Red rolled his eyes, anticipating what he knew would inevitably follow.

The captain sighed hopelessly, "I know our name sucks. Unfortunately, it's caught on and we don't have a choice. When they write the history books, I'll make sure they include a footnote clarifying your feelings on the subject. Now, just let me review the protocols you might need while I'm gone."

Lard Nar explained the contingency plans in place and what they'd need to do if Shloktapooxis were incapacitated and they were forced to assume command in an emergency. It was clear that the captain was going overboard and they probably wouldn't need to deal with a vindictive chef putting soap in the sweet potatoes, but they allowed him to talk anyway. It was as much for their sake as it was his own piece of mind, and they knew him well enough by now to understand that if something happened in his absence that could have been prevented, he'd never forgive himself.

"Okay. What happened in there with you and Spleenk? And how was breakfast emotional?" Purple asked once they had stepped outside the captain's office. His partner's earlier behavior had been odd and it was still nagging at him.

Red sighed, "So, I saw Spleenk leaving 'Nar's quarters this morning,"

"No way!" Purple gasped, his face filled with the same delighted scheming Red knew he must have evinced when he'd first run into Spleenk outside the captain's quarters.

"That's what _I_ thought," Red replied, "but apparently nothing, or as Spleenk said, _mostly_ nothing happened. I thought he was just being coy, so when we went to 'Nar's office and they didn't let us in right away, I figured,"

Purple rolled his eyes, "You assumed they were doing it."

Red scoffed, "His desk is covered in paperwork, all the cabinets have handles, and there's not enough wall space. I thought Spleenk was under the desk or something."

Purple inhaled, now realizing that Spleenk couldn't have played along with Red like he usually did without wounding the captain. A quip like _"If he'd let me, I would"_ might easily make Lard Nar feel like he was a burden on Spleenk and preventing him from a "normal" relationship, especially after what he'd been through. "That's awful!" He cried, slightly appalled.

"Says the one of us who's done it." Red replied critically, raising a non-existent eyebrow.

"I wasn't talking about _that_ ," Purple explained, "I meant the joke."

Red sighed, "I like to tease 'Nar because it's funny, but I don't want to hurt him." He said apologetically, "I didn't think about how he might take it."

"Well, I'd be pretty upset if you gave much thought to how he takes it, Sweetheart."

Red's eyes bulged in surprise, "Did you really just say that? You were disapproving and serious less than a minute ago."

"I already lost the moral high-ground since I'm the one who put the idea in your head in the first place." Purple shrugged, "You obviously feel bad about it and you recovered pretty well in there. No one's hurt, so there's no need to carry on. Now, I'm curious, do you assess _every_ room for its potential as a location for sex?"

"Well, it's not the _first_ thing I do."

"You're a piece of work, Red."

"Don't pretend it's not the most satisfying work you've ever had."

"It's the _only_ work I've ever had."

Red stepped into Purple's personal space, backing the other against the wall in a short pivot. The movement was sudden but without any force or physical contact. He placed one hand on the wall beside Purple's head and the other on the Irken's hip as he leaned in close, his eyes serious and his voice low. "You think someone else could do better?"

Purple grinned, "Nope. I just like winding you up."

"You know, some people would consider that manipulative."

"Really?" Purple asked, seemingly disinterested, "I considered it foreplay."

Red's surprise slipped into a sly expression as the thumb against Purple's hip teased the edge of his waistband, "You know, we _are_ going to have the place mostly to ourselves tonight."

"That's too bad. I've already got plans."

"Oh, do you really? With whom?"

"You wouldn't know him," Purple replied in a dreamy voice, "Tall, devastatingly handsome… he's got the most gorgeous red eyes you've ever seen. Great ass, too. Oh, and an _enormous_ ," Purple paused, dragging his eyes down Red's body without a trace of innocence, then back up to meet his partner's gaze without flinching, "ego."

Red smirked, "And you think you can handle an ego that size?"

"Of course." He answered, "We'll have to see if _he_ can handle mine."

"I bet he'd handle your ego right now, if you asked nicely."

"Tempting. But you heard the captain; we've got a job."

The hand that had been against the wall found Purple's nearest antenna and Red watched his lover's composure falter under his touch. Red's lips curled into an especially satisfied half-smile, half-smirk as he deliberately teased the sensory receptor in the ways he knew Purple had a weakness for, watching his eyes flutter closed each time Purple tried to keep them open. Maybe a "thank you" card really _was_ in order for the Doc, he thought as he held the antenna firmly between his first and third fingers, using the second to draw invisible shapes against it. It provoked the most delightful little noises from his partner: breathy gasps that cut off midway and became quiet moans or soft humming sounds.

"It doesn't look like you're in any condition to focus on work." He said with satisfaction and mock-concern, watching Purple's growing reliance on the wall behind him for support, "You can hardly stand up."

Purple opened his mouth to speak, but the fingers teasing the tip of his antenna stole the air from his lungs.

"R-red," He managed breathlessly as his head fell onto his mate's shoulder.

Red glanced up and down the empty hall and grinned before gently twisting Purple's antenna the way he knew the other liked.

Purple smothered what would've been a loud, shuddering cry against Red's shoulder and Red finally released the throbbing appendage, supporting Purple as he took several deep breaths to steady himself.

"Not too bad for a guy who could use some help at second base, eh?" Red grinned with a spark of mischief.

"That was cheap," Purple retorted, pouting.

Red's grin only widened, "Aw, come on. I just like _winding you up_."

"You'll have all night to do that."

"Ah, so when _you_ decide to play dirty it's foreplay, but when _I_ do it, it's cheap. Don't dish it out if you can't take it, Sweetheart." Red smirked.

Purple unexpectedly smirked in much the same fashion, "Oh Red," he made eye contact and shook his head in a disappointed manner as he caught his breath, "you seem to have forgotten which of us has the key for the handcuffs." He said as he collected himself and stood upright again, sliding out from between Red and the wall.

Red closed the gap between the wall and his own forehead in equal parts frustration and amusement. He sighed and turned around, crossing his arms and scowling as he watched Purple saunter on in front of him.

"The Resistance isn't paying you to stare at my ass, Red." Purple called cheekily over his shoulder.

"They aren't paying us _at all_!" Red answered.

"My mistake. Stare all you like, then." His grin was audible.

"Stupid pants." Red grumbled. The garment clung to Purple in all the right ways, making Red's mind go to all the wrong places. "You are such a little hypocrite."

Purple turned back toward Red with a smile that was both conciliatory and satisfied, "I know," he said, taking hold of Red's hands, "how about this: we'll get some lunch and throw ideas around for a few hours. You'll do your physical therapy, shower, and meet me in the cafeteria. Then, we go back to our room, I make good on all my teasing, and you get do whatever you want with me until we're too exhausted or sore, whichever comes first."

"You expect me to be able to focus on anything other than your last sentence between now and then?"

"Of course." Purple looked at Red as if his partner were a step slow, "I'd have dragged you into that utility closet otherwise." He replied, gesturing with a nod toward a nearby door.

"We could do both, you know." Red tried.

Purple shook his head in dissent, "Nope. I know you too well. Even if we only took 20 minutes, which we both know is an underestimation, once we sat down to work, you'd be all upset with yourself for getting distracted by sex when the fate of the universe is on the line. I'd spend at least ten minutes arguing with you over it until you felt better, and you'd want to work into the night, until we'd banged out a solid plan. If you're going to bang anything tonight, it had better be me."

"…If you'd explained it like that from the beginning, you'd have saved us both a lot of frustration."

Purple smiled, "Well, I had to give you some incentive."

* * *

"Sleep well, human?" Zim asked in a voice so sweet there could only be subterfuge beneath it. His grin was wide and knowing, and Dib _almost_ punched him.

"Oh yeah, the docking bay is just _fantastic_." The human spat, radiating his displeasure as he gestured to the room around him.

"Zim _did_ warn you." He reminded, still clearly pleased with himself.

"It's not very smart to piss off the person who's supposed to have your back on a mission where you're almost certainly going to be used as target practice." Dib explained with just enough of a threat in his voice to make Zim's expression collapse into concern. "I saved your ass on Tauron, you know."

Zim understood the boy was implying he was not obligated to extend the same nicety this time, and offered his familiar nervous laugh, "Heh, heh, heh… truce?" He tried weakly, extending his hand.

Dib sighed, "You're such an asshole, Zim." He rolled his eyes and shook the alien's hand quickly.

"What _else_ is new?" Zim replied, seemingly back to his usual self. " _You_ , of all people, ought to know that better than anyone."

Dib considered this. "Yeah. I guess I should've expected it."

"I'd say you were losing your edge, but I _am_ ZIM, so I can't be too hard on you. You are pathetically _human_ ," he said, placing obvious distain on the word _human_ , "after all."

Dib acknowledged the joke and chuckled as he shook his head.

"You know, Dib-Thing," Zim said casually, "if you're going to stay in the field, you should get some training so your human feebleness doesn't drag us down. Just basic defensive stuff if combat isn't your style. There should be a bunch of simulations and training programs in the physical conditioning wing."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were concerned about my well-being."

"Good thing you know better, Stink-Beast. Rest assured, though you have become marginally useful, Zim still finds you revolting as ever!" The Irken replied enthusiastically, "If you would like to bear witness to the mighty combat abilities of _Zim_ , I suggest you come along sometime."

If Dib was translating Zim correctly, the alien was concerned about Dib's ability to protect himself and was giving him an excuse to get started learning how. He was, after all, only a teenager, and while chasing Zim had made for excellent cardio, he knew really nothing about battle.

"Sure, Zim." Dib agreed, "I could use a good laugh."

Zim was briefly stunned for a moment by Dib's unexpected wit, then offered a grin, "Oh just you wait, Monkey-Boy. Zim shall reduce you to tears and leave you trembling with pants full of bodily excretions!"

Dib shook his head. "You know, there are times when I think I've said something dumb. And then I remember you, Zim, and I don't feel so bad."

The Irken completely ignored the boy's remark, "Oh, just wait until we return from our mission, Stink-Beast! You will soon behold the astounding fury of _ZIM's_ fists!"

"Save the display of _astounding fury_ for later, Zim." Tak's serious voice requested as she stepped off the ship she'd been preparing.

Zim went rigid at the sound but Dib detected a hint of amusement he knew she'd never admit to. After all, you didn't have to _like_ Zim to find him entertaining sometimes.

"Is it time yet?" Dib asked.

"I'm about to round everyone up. You both can get started with the pre-flight procedures you've been assigned." She said in a voice that implied it was really more of an order than an option.

Neither Zim nor Dib were slow to understand this, and boarded the vessel obediently, if somewhat grudgingly in Zim's case.

It was only a few minutes before Lulu joined them, diving into the munitions inventory she'd been responsible for checking with an unexpected zeal, and managed to finish her tasks a great deal sooner than her teammates.

"What's the problem?" She asked the irritated Irken who was clearly vacillating between exploding and asking for help.

Zim growled in frustration. "There is… a problem with the climate control system."

"Okay, so…"

"I'm getting a hundred little errors!" The anger was gone, and only terror in its place. He was not afraid of the errors, but he feared what would happen when he reported them to Tak. Oh, she'd hate him. She'd scream and yell and remind him of what a failure he was and he wouldn't be able to say anything because she'd be right, even though he hadn't caused the problems in the first place. Plus, they'd all be sweaty and uncomfortable the entire mission and Zim _hated_ that.

"I thought it was just me," Dib replied, "I've got a bunch of red flags on the com equipment. Doesn't seem right."

"The only thing I'm missin' is explosives," Lulu shrugged, "but they ain't on the manifest so they ain't _actually_ missin', so I ain't gonna say shit."

"With the two of you on board, I think the less flammable material, the better." Dib remarked jokingly.

"I'll have you know I ain't never made nothin' go boom I wasn't supposed to." Lulu explained, hands on her hips.

"Good to know," Tak said, stepping onto the bridge where the three members of her team had gathered. "I just looked through everyone's reports, and we're good to go."

Zim's jaw dropped and he just barely restrained the urge to leap into the air, waving his fists as he shouted _"do you not_ see _the climate control errors Zim has documented?! Zim DEMANDS a cabin of acceptable temperature! I will not endure the vile stink of other creatures secretions!"_

"What about the errors?" Dib asked as gently as he could.

Tak surprisingly smiled, "Oh, I threw those in there to fuck with you. Had to make sure everyone was up to the task. You all passed, by the way." She said, turning to sit in the captain's chair, "Even you, Zim."

Zim took a long, relieved exhale.

"All right, let's get strapped in and head out. I'm expecting preliminary reports from the probes I sent out this morning in about an hour, and I want to be well on our way with time to prep whatever's necessary by the time that data comes in. Dib, you're on coms. Mimi, you and I are on system controls. Lulu, you're our gunner. Zim," She hadn't planned on giving him an assignment, and she probably wouldn't have, if he didn't look so utterly wretched. She couldn't have him tiptoeing on, what was that human phrase? Seashells? She wasn't sure, but whatever the expression, she was going to need Zim on this mission whether she liked it or not, and while he had to be scared enough of her to fear the consequences of disobedience, he also needed to be able to function. "Zim, why don't you take navigation?"

The other Irken blinked in confusion a few times, "Erm, yes, Tak. Right away! Zim shall navigate!" He said, quickly turning his attention to the pilot's console.

"Coms are online, Tak." Dib said, feeling a spark that was both excitement and nervousness. Adrenaline, God bless it, was a beautiful thing. He was sure it would be far less attractive later, when he could barely keep his eyes open and collapsed onto his console in exhaustion, but for now, he'd ride it out as long as it lasted.

"Great." Tak replied, activating the line between herself and the _Dralal_ , which carried the six additional backup fighters, giving the order to depart.

* * *

References:

The **vindictive chef putting soap in sweet potatoes** is from Joseph Heller's _Catch-22_

**Obstacle golf** is from Aldous Huxley's _Brave New World,_ but it just seems so perfectly Irken.

**Notes**

I loved writing Dib and Purple's conversation.

As always, thank you so much for you love and encouragement! Until next time!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe a massive thank you to my lovely (and extremely patient) beta, Magenta Mauve! GO READ HER STUFF!

**\- 22 -**

"So, what's this about grenades I keep hearing from the captain?" Tak asked, making casual conversation with the crew's newest edition as they hurtled through space toward their ultimate destination. This wasn't really something she did unless it was part of some larger plan, but she felt the urge to make an effort. She enjoyed the chat she'd had with Tenn on their return trip from the Void, and decided she ought to try it more often. It was actually kind of nice, depending on who you were talking to.

Lulu sighed, "It's just a sore spot for him, is all. Makin' a big deal outta nothin if you ask me."

"What about the _Monarch's Crown_?"

Lulu rolled her eyes and her expression clearly communicated the universal sentiment of ' _not this again'_. "Captain knows damn well _nobody else_ thought those pirates would rig their own ship full of explosives." She scoffed in the voice of one who has explained this several times before, "He acts like _I_ blew the thing in half on my own."

"…You blew the ship in half?" Dib asked, turning his attention to Lulu.

"You hear a word I just said?" She answered, crossing her arms with mild irritation, "The damn thing was an explosion waitin' to happen. I was just the unlucky bastard who set it off. They were a nasty bunch, most of 'em slavers, an' they didn't take kindly to bein' boarded. I tossed a couple explosive grenades to clear the way through since they were tryin' to lure us into the cargo hold, and wouldn't ya know, they'd stripped the inside down to the hull and lined it with explosives."

"Sounds like suicide," Dib replied.

"Eh, stuff like that's common with slavers. Flood the cargo hold with pure O2, slam your blast doors, and good luck to whoever's collectin' DNA samples while ya disappear into hyperspace. Anyway, the plan backfired, literally, and they were on the wrong side of the explosion. We all made it out just fine, so I don't know what the Captain's still goin' on about. Between you an' me, I think he's just pissed about the time I singed his eyebrows off."

Tak laughed, much louder and more suddenly than she'd intended. She could picture it perfectly: the captain's stunned, eyebrow-less face, blackened with explosive residue as he blinked his wide, startled eyes.

"It's why he wears those goggles all the time." She chuckled, "I guess they never grew back. Ain't my fault; I _warned_ _him_ I was throwin' it." She shrugged, "An' he likes to tell people _I_ don't listen. He's lucky I pulled him back or he'd be a lot less pretty."

There was a gentle beeping noise and Mimi noted the new blinking light on her console, "Probe data coming in, Mistress…" she said, pressing it and scanning the data with her own processors, "We… have a problem."

The SIR unit activated a 3-dimensional tactical map on the Combat Information Center's hologram projector, making the aforementioned problem very, very clear.

"Fuck." Tak swore.

"Is that what I-"

"Yeah, Zim. It is." Her voice was clipped and tight.

Lulu whistled as she took in the unexpected presence and the corresponding schematics glowing an angry pink on the map.

"There's no way _that's_ a cargo vessel." Dib added, not knowing what to say, but feeling as though he ought to check that his vocal cords still worked.

"It's a destroyer." Mimi replied, matter-of-factly. "Elite class, but an older model. I'm reading torpedoes, laser turrets, and point-defense cannons."

"Well, it looks like we scared them." The human commented.

Tak grit her teeth and tried to analyze the situation. It wasn't the Planet Jackers; they didn't know anything about the shipment, and Lard Nar's communication with them would only have thrown Irk off their trail if they'd leaked information. By now, _They_ had to have known that the Void ship was missing and the technicians from the prison were dead. Dib was right; _They_ were concerned, and couldn't risk losing this shipment so they'd ditched the cargo vessel for something that could fire back.

The use of the older model told her that they'd made the decision quickly, and this was the nearest ship they could find. There was no purpose for a military vessel this far outside the Empire. That, combined with its age, suggested that the crew would likely be retired or low-ranking, and either way, Irk would consider it expendable.

That gave her something to work with. It wasn't much, but maybe it would be enough. She could abort the mission, and she knew she probably _should._ The captain wouldn't fault her for it; she supposed he'd probably be angrier with her for following through and trying something crazy. She surveyed her crew and cracked a smile: if he didn't want crazy, he shouldn't have put Zim, Dib, Lulu, and GIR under her command.

She drew in a breath; "We can't take them in combat. My bugs will take too long to get control of a ship that size, if the PDC's don't take them out first. We need the cargo, so we can't blow it up…" She said to herself as she paced the length of the bridge. Suddenly she stopped. Her pensive, agitated expression turned thoughtful, and then cautious, before morphing into a satisfied, decisive smile. The hesitation was gone. This was the sort of look, everyone would have agreed, you did not want to be on the wrong side of. If you were, you'd know you'd forgotten something, had slipped up somewhere, and were about to be made painfully aware of it.

"Zim, how attached are you to your Voot?"

"What?" He asked, startled, "Why does that matter?"

"I mean, how angry would you be if we destroyed it?"

"Angry enough to destroy yours," Zim replied, his eyes narrowing in protective suspicion.

Dib elbowed him sharply.

"What?! She's got one of her own!"

Tak tried not to look satisfied. "Is that more or less angry than you'd be if we all died in the cold vacuum of space?"

"I am all for _not_ dying in space," Dib answered quickly, raising his hand before turning to Zim, "At least hear her out."

Zim crossed his arms and eyed Tak skeptically, "What's your plan?"

Tak raised an absent eyebrow, surprised at the lack of pushback. It was clear the smaller Irken was actively straining himself to stay calm; she could see the pulse in his neck throbbing as visibly as the vein in his forehead. One day, she'd probably feel less joy at raising his blood pressure, but that wasn't today.

"The virus the Tallest sent to my ship, the one that shut it down… I'm thinking I can modify it. If we disable your Voot and lure them into docking with it, we can get into their system directly. That way, I can buy enough time for the bugs to get through the hull and into the hardware so the crew won't be able to override us or quarantine the virus."

"We can rig a booby trap with one of Shloonky's bombs as an incentive for 'em to stay put." Lulu added, "It's an old trick an' they'll probably see it comin', though."

"Maybe not from one of their own." Tak replied, "Which is why we need the Voot. Regardless, it's the only plan we've got. If it fails, we find a way to blow the thing and fall back. That cargo either comes with us or we send it to hell."

"And we can't use yours because…" Zim asked, trailing into expectant silence.

"Because _you_ owe me." She answered matter-of-factly.

Zim opened his mouth and raised a finger in preparation for a booming response, but stopped himself short. He closed his jaw tightly and his hand dropped to his side. Taking a deep breath, he folded his arms across his chest, "Okay."

"Good." Tak replied in a pointed tone that signalled the discussion had ended. "All right. Zim, Lulu,"

The Irken and Azurian looked at her with their full attention.

"I want that Voot rigged and ready in an hour." Her voice was nothing but steel and certainty now.

"Yes, ma'am." Lulu replied, all military. Her casual, rowdy, rough-around-the-edges playfulness was replaced with a hardness Dib hadn't expected.

Zim gave a firm nod; anyone could tell he wasn't happy about possibly losing his Voot, but he would make the sacrifice. Not because he wanted to, but because defying Tak seemed like a fatal course of action. What she had managed to do on Earth with only herself and a SIR unit had nearly devastated the planet. She had far more than that now, and it seemed unwise to stand in her way.

Plus, he had to admit that this course of action seemed like a far more solid plan than slathering the destroyer in amber-like goo, which was the first idea that had popped into Zim's head. For one thing, he'd need more time than they had to construct the cannon, and his impulse to cannibalize their current ship for materials might not go over so well. Then, there was the matter of synthesizing the desired molecular compound… perhaps if he combined the time-stasis field he'd created on Earth with some kind of non-lethal, sticky goop... no. No, there would be time for that _later_. He couldn't suppress the small, scheming smile that broke out when he thought about testing this new contraption on the Dib. Oh, it would be glorious!

He shook himself from his reverie. "Understood," he said, and exited the bridge behind Lulu.

The female Irken turned her focus to the human, "Dib."

"Me?" He asked, pointing at himself for clarification.

"No, your robot clone."

"Oh, um, I think Zim left that on Earth…" He replied uncomfortably.

Her features went flat, "I was being sarcastic, but I should know better by now. _Of course_ there's a robot clone." She sighed, "I need you to make contact with the ship when we spring the trap. If they go for it."

"Wait, why _me_?" He asked, eyes bulging slightly behind his glasses. At least his voice hadn't cracked or gone shrill, which he supposed was an improvement.

"I'm a woman of many talents, but as you may have noticed, diplomacy is not among them. You talked your way off a spaceport. It'll be a hell of a lot easier if we can deescalate this verbally. Who knows, maybe you can talk them all to death. I need Lulu and Zim in fighters ready to deploy in case this goes to shit. Can I trust you?"

There was a moment of panic in which Dib felt very small. He felt the vastness of the universe and the scope of the conflict and knew with complete certainty what an idiot he was. He was out here, in the middle of space, with two aliens who had _both_ tried to destroy him at one point or another and a soldier who seemed competent, if a bit eccentric, and they all expected him to negotiate with a captain who likely had more military service than Dib had years of existence. His mouth had gone dry.

_Well, you wanted to save the world,_ his inner voice reminded him _._

"Dib," She asked seriously, interrupting his unwelcome revelation, "can I trust you?"

Dib drew in a quiet breath and let it out. He counted to three and forced his heart down his throat and back into his chest where it belonged. It was still beating faster than normal, but it was less a frenzied thrashing against his ribcage and more ofa quiet hummingbird.

The conflict itself was big, he reflected, but _this_ was small. All that frightening vastness was only so because it was made up of moments so tiny they were indistinguishable from a distance. This was one fragment of the whole. All Tak needed him to do was talk, and he could do that. He'd been able to empathize with _Zim_ , after all. And he'd grown up dealing with his father's narcissism and whatever volatile personality disorder he guessed Gaz must've had, so what could they throw at him he hadn't encountered before? As long as he didn't get too emotional or start babbling, he'd be okay.

Somewhere in his mind, Zim's voice said: ' _great, now we're_ really _doomed'._

Dib pursed his lips in determination, eager to spite that doubting voice. He did not acknowledge the nagging concern at he fringes of his awareness that asked if he was _sure_ he was all right, because he was hearing Zim's voice in his own head and that was just so very not normal. The latter was probably for the best.

"Yeah. Sorry; I was thinking. Don't worry; you can trust me. I've got this." At least, he hoped he did.

Tak looked relieved, "Good." And with that, she turned to her monitor with a frightening degree of focus.

"Mimi," Dib asked in a voice just barely above a whisper, "is there any way to know who's in command of the destroyer?"

Mimi processed the query and replied, "Elite class destroyer _Miyuki_ , formerly the _DoomBringer_. Captained by one ex-general Tho."

" _Ex_ -general?" Dib replied, interested, "How'd he get his own ship if he was demoted?"

Another short pause occurred as Mimi accessed her databanks, "Ex-general Tho's intervention was responsible for ending the First Vortian Riots. His report of war crimes to Tallest Miyuki and pressure from the press prompted Irken retreat and the subsequent Irken-Vortian agreement. His superiors demanded imprisonment or execution. He was forcibly retired from combat but Tallest Miyuki named him captain of the escort ship _DoomBringer_."

"So he's a glorified errand boy now." Dib responded as his index finger tapped against his cheek, "And you said he went to Miyuki herself, not her secretary or anything? Is that… common?"

"It is strictly against protocol. The only communication one has with the Tallest is at his or her leaders' behest. To do otherwise is grossly disrespectful. No Irken with any self-respect would _dream_ of thinking themselves on the same level as the Tallest. Unless you're Zim, of course." There was no mistaking the snark in Mimi's tone as she delivered the last two sentences. "My mistress made sure she went through protocol by checking with the proper authorities before reaching out to the Tallest."

Dib guessed that even if Tak _hadn't_ , Mimi would have defended her anyway. "Thanks, Mimi. So, he goes directly to the Tallest and she takes action, but something makes him go to the media even after that." The human mused, furrowing his brown in pensive thought. Why? What would he gain? Irk was already pulling out, and Tho had to know there would be consequences, unless… "Mimi," he said, as if suddenly struck, "when did Irk _officially_ begin withdrawing from Vort? How long between his report to Miyuki and his contact with the press?"

"Nearly ten standard days. Irk's withdrawal did not begin until three days _after_ the media _shitstorm_ , as your people would call it, occurred _._ "

The human grinned brilliantly, " _She_ was the one who told him to go to the press; I'd bet anything on that. Irk's powers-that-be weren't going to let Vort go, and Miyuki must've tried to call for surrender and failed. She never would've given Tho a ship as consolation otherwise. It would cost him his career, buthe'd be too high-profile to kill." No, that didn't fit. He frowned, " _They_ could've easily made it look like an accident, so why risk keeping him around?"

He thought back to what Zim had told him about Miyuki, and how her co-Tallest had mysteriously been assassinated early in their reign. _They_ hadn't been able to use her life as leverage against Miyuki, and the latter had survived long enough to earn the reputation of a peacemaker, in spite of the powers-that-be. There was something about this that nagged at him.

"Can you tell me anything about Miyuki as Tallest?" He asked.

"I am not your personal info-bank." Mimi replied sharply, narrowing her eyes in an accusatory fashion.

Dib sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before adjusting the frames of his glasses. "I want Tak's mission to succeed. I think there's something about this ex-general we might be able to use to get him to listen to us. If we can do that, he might turn the cargo over without violence."

Mimi did not look pleased, but did the math and reluctantly acquiesced, "Providing said data will likely increase the odds of mission success, based on current variables." Sighing, the robot provided Dib with an answer, "There was minimal conflict during Miyuki's reign prior to the Vortian Riots."

"And after?"

"There is a pattern of escalating military activity."

"So something happened there. She stopped resisting orders after Vort."

"It… appears so." Mimi replied, synthesizing the data.

" _They_ finally found the leverage they needed." Dib replied, the picture coming together in his mind.

"Ex-general Tho." Mimi answered, beginning to see the shape of events in the same way the human did. "Once she died, Tho was no longer a concern."

"Did Miyuki and Tho know each other before he contacted her about Vort? Did they spend time together at the Academy or maybe serve in the same combat unit?"

Mimi tried a string of queries and looked puzzled. She tried it again with the same result, "There is no information regarding any prior interaction. They attended the Academy at the same time, but… there are no academic records for either Irken, and neither of them shows up on any course roster."

"Look up Red and Purple." Dib replied excitedly, "See if you can find anything about Zim in what's available from their Academy days."

Mimi looked as if such a request repulsed her and was somehow beneath her dignity.

"Please, Mimi?"

Mimi sighed and appeared to be biting her tongue, "Several entries found."

"And what about Tak? Does she show up anywhere with them?"

Mimi suddenly appeared as if she wasn't sure what the human was getting at, and her posture became slightly defensive. "They never shared any courses."

"But there _are_ records of the courses they all took, right?"

"Yes, of course," Mimi replied, "why wouldn't," her red eyes went wide, "oh. I see. If Tho and Miyuki were not in the same classes, there should still be a record of the courses they _did_ take."

"Right!" Dib answered brightly, "So, it looks like somebody didn't want to leave any evidence of a possible connection between them."

"Tho would not have the necessary access." Mimi explained.

"But Miyuki _would_."

"…You think she was protecting him?" The reply was both a question and statement.

"Might be why she lasted so long." Dib explained. "If she cared that much, there's no way he didn't notice."

Mimi's glowing eyes narrowed sceptically, "Males can be exceptionally dense in that regard."

Dib scowled, "Let's not make this a gender thing, okay, Mimi?"

The robot shrugged, "Fair enough."

"Is there a way to send a message back to Malterra?" Dib asked, rubbing his chin and squinting unconsciously.

Mimi was amused by the expressiveness of the human face, particularly the strange ways it contorted itself when deep thought was involved. Although maybe that was just Dib; she couldn't say for sure. "Yes, but there will be a delay."

"Well, it's better than nothing." He said, activating the panel in front of him and preparing a video message. It was a long shot, but worth a try. He wasn't going to leave anything to chance if he could help it.

* * *

The first hour of the journey was passed in companionable silence as both Tenn and Lard Nar went about their respective tasks. Tenn glanced over at the captain, who was shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

"Want some coffee, or something?" She asked, a smile and sympathy in her voice.

"Yeah," He sighed, "that's… that's probably a good idea."

Tenn nodded and set to work brewing two mugs of coffee, adding the desired amount of cream to each before returning to the bridge.

Lard Nar was about to ask how she knew he took his coffee this way but stopped himself, "Knew you were the right one for the job." He said, giving her a knowing smile.

Tenn returned the expression, pleased with herself, sipping from her own mug. "I try not to pry," she answered, "I need to keep in mind that everyone is more than data. They're all people, and the little things, like how they take their coffee, are worth knowing. Keeps me… grounded."

"Also makes it easy to spot when something's amiss, I assume."

Tenn's smile widened, "Nothing gets past you, I see."

The captain chuckled, "Oh, I wish. This job is too big to see everything at once." He sobered after a long sip from his mug, "It's damn scary sometimes."

Tenn nodded, "We can't all be Mei, I guess."

"Apparently, even _she_ can't see it all." Lard Nar replied.

"Buir says it's not much different than probability. The whole 'prophecy' part is just weighted odds."

"Minus the part where she can hear your thoughts," he joked.

"Well yeah, minus that." She said, "I'm sure it's way more awkward for her than anyone else, though. I know I sure as hell couldn't stand it. It's bad enough just _thinking_ that people are judging you; can you imagine the crippling anxiety you'd get knowing they _were_?"

The captain cringed and sipped his coffee, "Vort, _no._ " He replied, "I hadn't thought of that."

"Probably makes it hard to interact with people in general. It's like trying to be friends with a tax auditor or something."

He gave a short laugh then sobered. "So you think they're on the level? Mei and Buir?"

"They've gone through a hell of a lot of work if they're not." Tenn replied. "And there was… something that happened to Mei in the Void, while we were talking to Grel." She pursed her lips and tried to find the right word, "She was shaken up… caught off guard. Almost 'blindsided', but she hid it well."

Lard Nar leaned forward, clearly interested. "About what?"

"When she found out her people were still around. She had absolutely no idea. And I got the feeling that it wasn't the first time she'd met Grel."

The captain's face evinced confusion and he frowned, "They couldn't know each other from before, could they?"

Tenn shrugged, sipping her beverage. "At this point, I'll assume anything's possible."

"Mei would have known he was important, though. Right?" He scratched his head, squinting in thought, "She knew everything else. And didn't she say her leader gave her instructions, or something?"

"Did you ever have a rebellious phase?" Tenn asked.

"Well, yes- I mean, doesn't everyone?"

"Did you ever do something just because someone told you not to?"

Lard Nar sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he muttered something about a last shot of something Tenn couldn't make out, but sounded like the name of a cinnamon-flavoured alcohol with small bits of gold in it.

She tried not to laugh, "Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is, even when we know the consequences, we _still_ make bad choices. Why should we assume Mei is any different?"

The captain paused thoughtfully, taking in Tenn's opinion. "You think she's trying to make amends for something?"

Tenn shrugged and placed her mug down on the desk. "Can't say. I mean, sure, she's all flowers now, but that doesn't mean she hasn't got dirt underneath. _Everybody_ does. Nothing can grow without a little mess."

Lard Nar nodded, appreciating the metaphor. "For what it's worth, I agree with you. About Mei, and the dirt."

Tenn smiled wordlessly, but her magenta eyes were full of gratitude.

* * *

Red met Purple in the cafeteria at the time he'd appointed, which was a bit earlier than they usually ate dinner, but Purple clearly had something planned and Red sensed he ought to just humor his partner. He found the space empty, save Purple, which would have been eerie, if Purple had not been smiling so brilliantly and stolen his attention. It was the sort of smile that made Red's chest swell, that forced his lips to part in a wide grin of his own, and he let out a long breath and a mental prayer of gratitude. Purple had always called him "impossible", but Red knew his mate had it wrong.

Red paused and evaluated his partner with amused suspicion, "You're up to something."

"Maybe." Purple replied in a voice indicating that he certainly was. He bit his lower lip and Red fought the urge to bite it _for_ him.

"So, do you plan to let me in on what it is?"

"Promise not to laugh?" Purple asked, taking a seat.

"I promise." Red replied, following suit.

"We… we never really ever got a chance to have dinner together, I mean, just the two of us. All the keeping up appearances, you know? Since almost everybody's gone, I thought it might be nice to just… do that. Like… normal people." He was adorable in his awkward self-consciousness, making an active effort not to drum his claws against the tabletop.

Red smiled fondly at his mate, eyes softening as he reached across the table and placed his hand against Purple's cheek. "When I said I couldn't love you more, you weren't supposed to take that as an incentive to prove me wrong again, you know."

Purple exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and relaxed, nuzzling against Red's hand as the tension dissolved. He reached up and placed his own hand on top of Red's, and enjoyed the touch before repositioning it on the table and intertwining their fingers.

"I know it's not much of a first date," Purple explained, "but I'll make it up to you afterward."

"It's perfect, Pur."

Purple had braced himself for a comment about putting out on the first date, and had even devised a witty retort, so he was visibly surprised when it did not come. Red hadn't noticed.

The red-eyed Irken drew in a breath and studied their linked hands, his smile never fading from his face, "You know, I used to imagine this all the time."

"What do you mean?"

" _This_." He said, squeezing Purple's hand, "You. What it would be like to take you out somewhere."

"You had fantasies about… _dating_ me?" Purple asked, a tinge of amusement in his voice.

Red sighed, blushing slightly, "Weird, eh?"

Purple gave a soft chuckle, "Not weird at all. It's just kind of funny because you always said _I_ was too romantic."

"Yeah, but I never said I didn't like it." Red replied.

Purple's smile widened and he tried to memorize every last detail of this moment: the gentle, confessional smile on his partner's face and the light blush across his cheeks, the set of his shoulders and the way he held Purple's hand; the honest vulnerability in his eyes complimented by the subtle, unconscious half-lowering of his antennas. He marveled at how he could know every inch of the Irken before him, and yet, still have so much left to discover.

"Well then, you owe me a date when this is all over." Purple said, "But I get extra points for this one because my options were seriously limited."

Red laughed. Of course Purple would find a way to turn _dating_ into a competition. "Have all the extra points you want, dear." He retorted with mock generosity, "You'll need them."

"We'll see." Purple replied, the corner of his mouth twitching slyly.

That was Purple: he would give you an inch, but only if you offered him a mile. He hated being outdone and always let you know when something wasn't up to his standards. It was infuriating sometimes, but damn if Red didn't love the challenge.

"Just wait." Red responded casually, "When this is all over, I'm going to-"

_keep you in bed for a whole day and surprise you with breakfast for dinner_

_take you someplace nice and order you the most expensive wine they've got_

_learn how to make you the best fucking donuts you've ever had_

_spoil you so damn rotten with all the little things you love_

all tried to pour out of his mouth at once, so he didn't actually say any of them aloud. He smiled enigmatically instead, "I'm going to surprise you."

"Good. I'd hate to be the only one making an effort around here."

"I make _quite_ an effort, if you'll remember." Red replied suggestively, rubbing his foot against Purple's ankle underneath the table.

Purple rolled his eyes, "Sexual prowess is not a substitute for dates, Red."

"And why not?" Red asked, using his thumb to trace circles against Purple's palm.

"We'd never leave home."

"True." Red replied with a wink, which drew a laugh from his mate across the table.

"Sorry to interrupt," an adoring, matronly voice said as it drew closer.

Red turned his head to see a familiar member of the cafeteria staff, one of the cooks, if he had it right… Tina, yes, that was her name. She was built like a linebacker with four legs and three arms, her wide-set yellow eyes were frog-like and her skin was patterned in the fashion of an orange and red giraffe. She was carrying a tray with two plates on it toward their table and smiling like an enthusiastic grandmother.

Purple drew in a breath, "Tina, I _told you_ I'd bring that out myself," he said, quickly getting to his feet and rushing over to assist her.

She smacked him away without force and issued him a firm look, "And _I_ told _you_ not to worry about it. I was a waitress long before I was a chef. Now go sit back down right now, young man."

Purple sighed, hung his head like a scolded child, and grudgingly obeyed as Tina set their plates down on the table in front of them. He would've said something about being twice as old as she was, but she would've countered with something about life experience and time on Irk moving faster than just about everywhere else in the universe, so he let it go.

"You two enjoy the rest of your evening. You've got about an hour before the first shift comes in for dinner." She said smiling, before turning on her heel and leaving them to each other's company.

Red glanced from the food to his partner curiously, as if to ask what exactly was going on.

"It's nothing special, really," Purple explained, "it's what they're serving later anyway, and it was no trouble for her to cook some a little early, as long as I took care of the clean-up."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Red was absolutely stunned by the fact that Purple had willingly cleaned a mess that wasn't his. He hated that sort of thing, and as far as Red could remember, he hadn't seen his partner clean up _anything_ since smeethood. Tina had probably needed to show him how to do it properly. He imagined Purple had stood there, frowning at the sink full of dirty cookery and grumbling in agitation until Tina took pity on him. He'd probably been so proud of himself when he'd done it, though, beaming at her with that goofy, self-satisfied smile he always managed when he did something well in spite of the expectations.

"Plus," Purple continued, "I think Shloonktapooxis might have put in a word for me this morning because she seemed to know what I had in mind by the time I got around to asking."

"Shloonktapooxis?" Red asked.

"We talked over breakfast. It went about how one would expect breakfast with Shloonktapooxis to go."

Red gave a quiet, knowing laugh.

"And I _may_ have committed you and I to a ship-wide movie night he's planning to organize sometime in the near future."

Red raised an invisible eyebrow, "Movie night?"

"He just looked so _happy_ about it," Purple replied miserably, poking at his food, "I couldn't tell him no."

"It's a recipe for disaster," Red remarked, "you know that, right?"

"Of course." He said, "But it could be a really, _really_ funny disaster. And those are _always_ entertaining." Purple replied, brightening.

Red smiled in agreement, "All right, you've talked me into it. I can't resist a good… what do humans call them? Train wrecks?"

"I know." The violet-eyed Irken grinned. "And, train wreck or not, I think you'll find that I can make it worth your while."

"You always do."

"I know," Purple answered, looking satisfied with himself.

"Thank you for all this," Red said, meeting his partner's eyes, "I don't even know what to say, it's… it's amazing."

"We wouldn't be here without you, Red. I just want you to know how grateful I am, for everything. You've always been so patient with me, and I haven't exactly made things easy for you."

"Easy is boring," Red answered with a smile, "you make life interesting, and I wouldn't want it any other way."

"It's true," Purple joked, "you'd be so boring without me. All logic and computers, practicality and pessimism. Can you imagine the trouble you'd get yourself into?"

"We can't have that now, can we?"

"Absolutely not. I won't stand for it."

"Good. I need you." Red replied, placing a subtle emphasis on the word _need_.

"I need you, too." Purple returned the expression in the same manner.

"I mean, somebody's going to have to do the dishes."

Red received a balled-up napkin in his face, and laughed.

They ate, enjoying each other's company and casual conversation that steered clear of work-related discussion. Even though the plan they'd devised earlier was, in their mutual opinion, quite genius, it was still a reminder that this blessed moment of normalcy was impermanent.

During the silences, they contemplated hypothetical futures, filling the vast, blank unknown with flickering projections of their dreams. Red decided he would learn how to cook. Microwave nachos would lose their charm after a while, and he wasn't sure he trusted Purple in the kitchen. He imagined his mate hovering over him, watching intently as he did one thing or another involving bowls or spices, or whatever else one used while preparing a meal. He was sure Purple would eventually buy him an apron (possibly having "wife" embroidered on it as a joke), and Red would use it daily and flaunt it as best he could, just because it would irritate Purple to know he hadn't gotten the reaction he'd been after. Red would, of course, have already gotten Purple a pair of dishwashing gloves emblazoned with the same word because if Red was going to cook, he sure as hell wasn't going to clean, too.

He imagined dinners burnt beyond recognition as the consequence of Purple's pre-dinner boredom and impatience. Purple would sidle up behind him and drop his chin onto Red's shoulder, asking how much longer. Red would tell him and Purple would pout, replying that it was taking too long, and his hands would find Red's hips and run along his sides. Red would sigh and offer a token warning, Purple would whisper everything he wanted to hear, and they'd end up breathless and spent on the kitchen table, hopefully just before the smoke alarm went off.

Purple would try to explain that it really wasn't his fault since Red had been cooking and it was his job to make sure nothing burned, and he knew how impatient Purple got when he was hungry so how could they blame him? The fireman would urge Red to buy some goddamn snacks for his mate because that was the fourth time this week and it wasn't funny anymore. Red was just as much to blame, he would say, because nobody made cassoulet on a Tuesday night, unless they planned to eat it on Wednesday.

Purple would stand there, appalled, and rant about how he _knew_ Red had been up to something, how this was just like during the war, when he'd assured Purple he wasn't being too loud, even though he absolutely was and Red just liked hearing it. Purple would march back inside and Red would sigh and run out to grab the planet's equivalent of Chinese food, and they'd sit on the couch together watching TV and laughing and eating from the carton. Red would kiss the top of Purple's head and ask if he were still mad, and Purple would tell him he wasn't, but the next time Red wanted to have sex, all he had to do was ask.

There would be other things, too. Lazy afternoons on a living room couch where one or both of them would nod off. Purple was likely to institute an annual "pillow fort day", and devote increasing amounts of time and strategy into planning ever more elaborate structures that Red, of course, would be obliged to make functional. There would be video game battles and day trips and joyrides, and maybe even a little café where the proprietor knew them and always had a table open. They would be "that nice couple down the street" and no one would care where they'd come from or who they'd been before. It would be a future in which their past could not tag along the way it did in the present.

Red collected their plates and utensils, depositing them in the requisite bins before returning to his partner, who was clearly about to surprise him again.

"One last thing," Purple said, reaching into his pocket. "It's not much, and the best I could do for wrapping was gauze, but I think you'll like it anyway."

He handed Red a small tube-shaped object wrapped in gauze secured by medical tape. One part of him wanted to lecture Purple for wasting resources, but the other, larger part just smiled and unraveled the white cotton bandage.

He was confused for a moment, flipping the black tube around in his hand and taking notice of the small, round hole in one flat edge.

Purple briefly contemplated allowing Red to accidentally shine the laser in his own eyes (it would serve him right for his remark about the dishes), but it wouldn't really be _that_ funny. He quickly grabbed Red's wrist and flipped it toward the table. "Don't point it at your eyes, trust me. Press the silver button."

Confusion yielded to something Purple could only describe as a whole-body-grin. His eyes beamed with excited surprise and his smile was wider than Purple could remember it having been in years. For a moment, he thought Red might actually jump up and down with glee. Luckily, Red was able to restrain himself, though he did let out a rather undignified, uncharacteristic squeak as an unconscious consequence. "OhmyGod, oh _Irk,_ it's a laser, _it's a laser –_ that is so fucking _cool_!" He babbled enthusiastically, "Where did you find this?!" He asked, pointing it at random objects all over the room.

He wouldn't pretend to understand his partner's fascination, but he didn't think he'd ever been happier, or prouder of himself, than he was watching Red gush over his new toy.

Red looked up and caught Purple's eyes mid-ramble and stopped talking. He stuffed the keychain into his pocket and grabbed Purple's shirt in his fists, yanking him close for a breathtaking kiss. Red's mouth was eager but not fast, firm without being forceful, and above all, completely certain. There was nothing but love in it, and for once, Purple didn't care about where they were or who might see them, and he returned the gesture every bit as enthusiastically.

"You win." Red told him through deep breaths and a shining smile as he nuzzled Purple's forehead.

Purple gave a small, quiet laugh, "At what?"

"Everything."

* * *

The quantum engine shortened the small group's journey to the farthest reaches of known space from several hundred thousand years to about a day and a half. Quantumspace was much faster than hyperspace, but the wormhole navigation was the real time-saver.

Skoodge could easily tell (as could anyone with half a brain) that Spleenk was uneasy about their mission, which seemed odd to the former Invader, since it was no immediate threat to anyone's life.

Mei had been in a blissful trance for the duration of the trip, and Buir spent most of his time in meditation, though he and Skoodge had swapped a few war stories. Skoodge learned that Buir had been orphaned at a young age and that the Protectorate Guild had taken him in. The elder Guild members had grown too old to be useful guardians, so they turned their charity to the most vulnerable members of society and gave them food, shelter, education, and a sense of belonging. They had also taken great care to ensure these people were not abused or taken advantage of. Buir could not recall ever wanting for anything while growing up in the care of the Guild. He had learned to appreciate the beauty of simplicity and the importance of personal discipline, but there was nothing Draconian about it.

He'd had his heart set on joining the Guild ever since he was ten years old, and never once regretted his decision. He looked forward to one day serving the less fortunate in the capacity of an elder, if he were to live that long.

Never having been a soldier, Spleenk respectfully declined participating in these conversations. This left him with the company of his own thoughts, and none of them were particularly welcoming. Like walking into one's home to find an uninvited guest, Spleenk found himself confronted with memories that he preferred to avoid. He was beyond the point of blaming himself for Senna's death; he hadn't done anything to cause it and he certainly could not have stopped it. He knew that he would always have decided that she should stay home and focus on her schoolwork with the knowledge he had then. "If I knew then what I know now" was a pointless phrase. He could only have made the decision based on the facts he'd had at the time, and as much as he hated to admit it, Spleenk knew he'd made the responsible choice. In a way, knowing that he was blameless made it worse.

He didn't want to be here. He had no desire to swap tragedies with a woman who'd endured such great loss. His instincts told him it would be necessary, and though he tried to fight it, he knew no one else could connect with her on a similar level. Red and Purple had suffered greatly, but Spleek was concerned that Red might lash out at Iris, blaming her for everything he and his partner had gone through, if she declined to help them. While he'd seen Purple keep his anger in check, he also knew the former leader could be excessively harsh in his condemnations, and physically violent at the very worst. Spleenk suspected that she already held herself quite responsible for the unfortunate direction in which her species had progressed. A personal accusation might be too much for her.

So, it had to be _him_. He chuckled humorlessly to himself. Didn't it always?

He knew Lard Nar wouldn't approve, but he'd brought the Void data as reading material, and hoped to have at least a raw profile worked out by the end of his trip. The numb, detached state in which he found himself made it much easier to stomach the information, though he suspected he'd be paying for it with some kind of breakdown later. He had started with the account of Hedraretica, not only because it was the event he was most connected with and a fresh reminder of his grief might help with Iris, but because something about it never added up. The truth was more interesting than he could have imagined (or at least, it would have been if it had not hurt so much).

He'd been able to guess that the Massive hadn't fired right away because the Tallest had stalled for whatever time they could buy. They'd been able to push the boundary of what was permitted far longer than what was typically "allowed", so far in fact that it seemed a miracle Red hadn't died. Spleenk no longer believed in those, so he kept digging for an explanation.

The drug _They'd_ given Red had been designed to stimulate the pain center of the brain, and was administered in a series of five injections, the last one being lethal. Spleenk wasn't very good at chemistry, but he trusted the thorough documentation of test-runs _They'd_ so graciously attached to the "incident report". Red had been dosed five times… or at least, he _should have been_.

Purple, bless his heart, had tried to wait out the effects of the EMP, and it had worked until _They_ noticed launches from the surface. The one Spleenk supposed was Gileon had ordered his people to wait before administering the last injection, and all but literally exploded at Purple.

" _You_ worthless _little piece of shit,"_ he spat viciously in the small clip of the recording Spleenk had forced himself to watch. Though physically shorter, he seemed to tower over Purple. He smacked the Irken _hard_ across the face, so forcefully he staggered and steadied himself on the panel nearest him when he lost his footing. Spleenk supposed the hover-belts had been turned off to remind them how utterly powerless they were.

" _You'd let him die for this? You_ ungrateful _fucking puppet!_ " The trembling rage in his voice conveyed his scathing hatred more than language could articulate, _"Look at what you've done to him,"_ he shouted, shoving Purple toward where Red lie sobbing gutturally on the floor, his spine arched in pain at such an impossible angle Spleenk was convinced it would snap.

" _Are you proud of what you've done? Was it worth it?! Hurting him is only necessary to motivate you, but hurting_ you _… that's_ fun _. It's fun, because he gets to see how pathetic you are. One of these days he'll realize what he could be without you holding him back!"_ He took the syringe from the black-clad Irken holding it.

Purple lunged after him desperately, but was shoved back. He was spewing panicked tears and frantic apologies, but none of it seemed to matter.

" _If he lives, that is."_

Purple shrieked in the video as the needle found Red's skin, and threw himself at the control panel, slamming down on the "fire" button before collapsing against it and onto the floor in a hunched, sobbing heap.

Gileon stopped as a mechanical voice informed the room that the laser cannon was charging. He took a breath and withdrew the syringe. Spleenk noticed the plunger had not been depressed as he dropped it onto a nearby metal tray.

He stalked toward Purple with an expression of pure disgust and loathing, kicked him, spat at him, and exited the room without a word. The rest of his people exchanged silent glances and followed.

The outburst was noteworthy. Yes, _They'd_ berated both of them before, but this was oddly… personal. His use of the word "ungrateful" stood out. Gileon clearly favoured Red, and had admitted he did not derive the same pleasure from hurting him as he did his violet-eyed counterpart. This seemed strange, because the two generally agreed that while Purple usually got it worse, Gileon hated Red far more actively and openly. Yet, he _could not bring himself_ to let Red die when he should have.

Spleenk found his own suspicions echoed throughout the incident report, in familiar, passive-aggressive comments like " _behavior raises concerns about objectivity"_ and _"failing to administer full dose may undermine control."_ There had apparently been some debate about whether or not they ought to "dispose of" Purple after his brazen disobedience. Gileon seemed all for it, from the notes: " _Leadership suggests eliminating distractions will make Red amenable to our cause, whereas it is generally agreed upon that he will never comply willingly, and his obedience hinges on Purple's survival. Plans are too delicate to risk eliminating both and starting over."_

The final consensus was to test Purple with executions to assess the extent of his willingness to rebel. It broke Spleenk's heart to see his friend destroyed like that, even if it was only through text. 57 had been his breaking point. He'd been made to kill 57 people in as many days, while Red suffered complications from the drug. It was no wonder he'd lost his mind. He knew that for Senna, he'd have done the same (though if he were honest with himself, he knew murder-suicide would've become quite appealing long before he got close to 57, and couldn't help but feel ashamed).

His emotional restlessness had almost reached the threshold of unbearable when the brightest, most beautiful blue light suddenly spilled through the windows of the small spacecraft. Spleenk quickly got to his feet and stood gaping in awe at the brilliant, shimmering, sphere-shaped blue-white blaze before him. He glanced at Mei. She simply gave a kind smile before resuming her trance. Spleenk was pretty sure that the only reason he and the others were seeing this was because Mei allowed them to. To any other mortal, it would have been invisible. Even the radar couldn't detect it. Spleenk took a deep breath and fixed his eyes again on the glittering blue display before him. An unprecedented sensation of calm passed through him, soothing his agitation. He was going to get through this and it would be all right.

"We will be landing shortly." Mei explained serenely as her company continued to stare, utterly transfixed by the astounding beauty flickering against the black blanket of space.

* * *

They were greeted by Iris's chief guardian, an Extollian monk by the name Okhrana; he received them warmly, though it was easy to detect a deep concern in his manner. He was tall, maybe halfway shy of six feet, and lean with gray skin and appeared a formidable man with an unexpected softness in his deep blue eyes. He wore a simple red robe and bowed his head toward each of them in a respectful fashion.

"We woke her from cryo yesterday," he explained. "Your people," he said, nodding toward Mei, "gave us instructions to do so. Iris will see you, but first I must warn you: she has been asleep for thousands of years, but her mind is just as it was when she came to us."

"Is that a problem?" Skoodge asked.

"She has suffered a great loss. Please be mindful of that."

They nodded, following as quietly as possible as Okhrana led them to a moderately sized room largely furnished with computer panels not dissimilar from the basement of Zim's lair on Earth. Monitors and screens displayed information ranging from the surface temperature to re-runs of a classic Zahn television show. The room was empty, save a single occupant. She sat curled in a chair, completely engrossed in a hardbound book. Skoodge and Spleenk knew that books had once been written and produced on paper, but such antiquities were so rare that neither could remember seeing one outside a museum.

This had to be Iris. She appeared just slightly beyond middle-aged, but by no means was she frail. There was something spectacularly radiant that seemed to emanate from her, yet it was contradicted by the cold isolation that nearly suffocated her.

Spleenk could plainly see how weary she was. All he had to do was look into her maroon eyes. He supposed they must have been lively once, perhaps even flickered with flecks of gold or deep violet, but had long since been muted. A dull, lackluster film of exhaustion clung to them, though her body did not appear tired.

"Iris." Okhrana began, "You have visitors."

She looked up, turning her infinitely sad gaze toward the four new occupants of the room before it settled on Skoodge and hardened, "What do you want?"

Skoodge was immediately uncomfortable. "Just keeping a promise," he explained, "we met someone with a message for you… from your husband."

The color drained from her face and she looked as though she might shatter. "…What?" It was barely a whisper.

"We came upon a creature in terrible condition; he'd been tortured and rendered mad and mute. I connected with him, and he explained that he'd been used as a tool for another creature's consciousness. That creature was being kept in the Shrieking Void. We journeyed there in hopes of better preparing ourselves for the coming darkness," Mei gently elaborated. "We found that consciousness in the Void and he told us about you and the Irk that history has forgotten. In return for this information, we promised to deliver a message he'd been carrying since the day your planet burned. He would not tell us what it was, only that your husband intended it for you. We are here to honour the promise he made to your husband."

Iris said nothing, just sat stoically. Every muscle in her body had tightened and she withdrew into herself for a moment.

"Iris, dear," Okhrana said in a comforting voice, "they have come a great distance to honor Maro's memory."

That seemed to draw her back into reality. "Of course. Where is it?"

"It's in my Pak." Skoodge explained, "Mei has to get it out."

Iris cringed at the word "Pak" but refused to let it betray her. "Do what you have to." She said.

Okhrana evaluated Iris for a moment, and his features morphed into disappointment. "Where's _your_ Pak, Iris?"

She sighed, revealing the device from beneath the chair on which she sat, "I don't need it."

"I know that. I also know you've only been out of cryo for a day, and could potentially _die_ without it. I did not spend the last fifty years keeping you alive so you could let yourself get killed, and neither did the members of my order who protected you before me."

"I didn't ask for this."

"No, but you took the offer."

Iris said nothing, knowing Okhrana was right. She held the Pak out to him and he made short work of fastening it to her back. Mei connected Skoodge's Pak to the main console and the data transfer was complete in under a minute.

A young, handsome alien appeared on the main screen. He was not Irken, a fact Skoodge had difficulty processing. He could accept his own kind loving each other, but to become, well, _intimate_ , for lack of a better word, with someone outside one's race was… strange. He was unsure why he felt this way; he had no trouble accepting his crewmates as equals. Perhaps there was still some unconscious bias that lingered in the deep recesses of his mind. He supposed it was to be expected after a lifetime in a world that reinforced the belief of his own people's superiority. He'd have to make a more conscious effort, but in time, he'd get past it.

Iris's husband was grey-skinned, though his complexion was more silver than Okhrana's, and they were clearly a different species. He had a long, triangular face and his eyes were the burning orange of a sunset on Junkyardia, a planet with so much pollution it was uninhabitable to anyone but the native life forms who thrived on the otherwise toxic atmosphere. His brow was creased in concern and his eyes were filled with worry. Iris was so completely engrossed in the image that she'd forgotten she wasn't alone. She raised her hand to cover her mouth and looked as though a forceful sob threatened to consume her body, though it never did.

Not trusting her voice, she used her free hand to absentmindedly press "play" and the man on the screen began to speak.

" _Iris, I found it! I found what you've been looking for, but,"_ there was a large thud and the camera shook, causing the man to cringe, _"but I can't send it over the net. It's really hit the fan here, Sweetheart. They're monitoring all communications; I'll be lucky if this data transfer works. Everyone's lost their damn minds"_ Another series of thuds and loud, crashing noises; Maro chuckled, _"You sure pissed them off, Izzy."_ His demeanor became serious again, _"I didn't realize how bad it had gotten, and I'm not sure I'm gonna make it off the planet in time… we promised each other when we met that the future was more important than the present, and we'd do everything we could to save it. You've done your part, and I'm doing mine. The information we were after is embedded in this message. They've burned everything in the palace library, but I've managed to assemble a pretty good collection here. Let's just hope somebody on our side finds this place. I mean, this little room is pretty much a bomb shelter underneath the library… I doubt Gil and his men will even look, since all the books are gone."_ The figure frowned bitterly, then drew a deep breath before his expression turned regretful.

" _Anyway, if you're watching this, I probably didn't make it and I'm sorry. Even though it's against the vows of the order and all that,_ please _take that bastard down and make him suffer. Don't blame yourself for what happened to Laz; that wasn't your fault. I love you, Iris. You're an incredible woman. I'll see you in the place where no shadows fall. Goodnight, Dear."_

A terrible, ghastly silence filled the room. It seemed to have reached down everyone's throats and taken their voices hostage, because no one could break it. Nearly five whole minutes later, Iris finally spoke.

"How did he die?" She asked without inflection. She did not face the four strangers that had brought the message to her.

"During his escape," Mei explained, still in the same soothing, gentle tone, "he rescued a man who was being attacked and then helped him to safety."

A strange expression crossed Iris's features. "Of course. _Of course_."

A second awkward, tense silence fell over the room again, but it didn't last nearly as long. Suddenly, Iris removed her Pak and threw it to the floor with no small amount of force. The loud clang caused everyone present to flinch. Then, as if nothing had happened, she turned to the four visitors and spoke, "I suppose you know about Gileon, then. You're here for my help."

"We hoped,"

She snorted, "You can't stop him."

"But you haven't even heard us out!" Skoodge protested.

"There's no point." She replied calmly, "Maro's dead. I'm _done_."

"Iris," Okhrana started.

"Don't you _dare_ use my dead husband to guilt me into this!" She pre-emptively seethed at the Extollian monk, " _I_ wanted the two of us to run away to the furthest planet with a breathable atmosphere. _He_ wanted to keep fighting, not me!"

"You're just gonna let Irk win?" Skoodge asked incredulously, filled with furious disbelief.

" _Me?_ " She replied, " _You_ helped build this empire, Spark Plug."

"And now I'm gonna take it down." Skoodge replied fiercely, not affected by the insult in the slightest. Anyone who heard the conviction in his voice understood that Skoodge was prepared to dismantle the Irken Empire with his bare hands, if necessary.

"Good, then you can leave me alone." Iris took a deep breath and collected herself, "I appreciate you delivering my husband's message, but please understand that there's nothing I can do to help you."

"There's plenty you can do." Spleenk replied with no malice or sarcasm in his voice. "You just don't feel that there's anything worth fighting _for_. The world you knew is dead and the one that took its place is horrifying. You see what's become of the technology you created and you feel betrayed."

Iris did not respond. Her eyes fell to the floor and her muscles tightened. She clenched her fists before exhaling and allowing them to grow slack. "I tried to stop it, and it cost me my son. I went into cryo married and woke up a widow. Again. I'm tired. Let me have some peace for _once_ in my life." She sounded desperate and terribly empty, " _Please_. There's nothing left for me."

"So find something new." Spleenk replied earnestly.

She looked as if she wanted to punch the four-armed alien. Her fists clenched again, though she kept them at her sides as they visibly shook in anger, "Oh, it's _that_ easy? Fuck you!" She spat, "How many husbands have _you_ lost?! How many sons?!"

Spleenk steadied himself and was silent for a moment. It was obvious to everyone present that Iris had touched a very tender nerve. Spleenk looked at her with a terrible pain in his eyes and Iris faltered when she recognized it.

"My daughter died afraid and alone because of that bastard, and I had to watch it happen."

There was a shocked silence that Spleenk couldn't stand, so he filled it with words. "I live with it every day of my life. Not a single one goes by that I don't remember. I'm telling you this because I know you're in pain and you can't see a way out. You hate the pain, but you crave it because you think you deserve it. You feel like your heart is being crushed in a black hole and sometimes it's hard to breathe. It's like someone's ripping you apart from the inside out all the time and you just want it to end.

"I can't tell you you'll ever be whole again, or that you won't always feel like a gaping shard of your soul is missing. All I can tell you for sure is that if you let us help you, someday, it'll be less awful. I'm offering you a chance to destroy the people who put billions of parents into the position we're in. It's too late for our children, but there's still time to save billions more."

"…You don't understand." She replied. Tears were pouring down her face but she did not sob, "I killed him. My son. I killed him."

"I don't think that's the whole truth." Spleenk coaxed gently.

Iris struggled with herself for a moment. It manifested on her face as her features scrunched and twisted in a painful grimace. After a few deep breaths, she was able to speak. "I had to; Gil would've killed him no matter what at that point. There was no way out and I thought I might be able to save him if I could do CPR until his Pak came back online but he was just too weak without it…."

She told them about the call she'd gotten from Gileon's lab, explaining that there'd been an accident involving her son Laz and she needed to come right away. Iris had been suspicious, but upon pressing the issue, it became clear that if she did not come as requested the consequences of her son's accident would be much more severe than they were at the moment.

She would have called the police, but she knew such a thing was futile. She'd opposed Gil's initiative to make Paks standard for all Irken law enforcement officers, and they hadn't been hesitant to let her know how they felt about it. Iris' concern was that the Pak in question had only military applications and she was wary of the same model being used in planet-wide law enforcement. She had worked on special protective armor that injected medi-gel into areas that sustained trauma. The fabric contained nanotech that could apply pressure to broken skin and prevent someone from bleeding out. The message the public received was that because she did not want police officers to have Paks, she obviously wanted them to die. They made this crystal clear when they refused to investigate after her home had been vandalized three times.

Laz had been enamored with Gileon for several years at that point. The latter was charismatic and powerful, and took a particular interest in Laz. The boy never suspected Gileon's interest laid purely in his mother and her invention and that he was just a means to an end. Try as she might to convince him, Laz was just too stubborn.

"…He wanted me to build some kind of behavior control mechanism into the Pak and threatened to kill Laz if I didn't. I _almost_ did it. I almost gave in. He gave me a week to build it, and I spent that time making him believe he'd won me over. I thought I'd convinced him… I hoped he'd let my son go as an act of good faith, but…." She paused, looking pale and weak before starting again, "My week was up. I'd built an EMP device into a Pak shell and I was sure it would kill him. Most of his people were completely dependent on them, and I thought he was, too… it knocked him out. Killed most of his people on-site. Laz barely had a pulse when I found him; he'd already stopped breathing. Got him outside and gave CPR. I thought that if I could just keep his heart beating, he'd wake up when it came back online… I knew he was too fragile, but I tried."

She took a deep breath, "I was a wreck after I lost him, but I was sure Gil had died, too. No one had heard from him in months and then, like a bad dream," she trembled, "he was in the news again. Maro wanted to fight, and I suppose back then, some part of me did, too. I was so angry that he was alive and my son wasn't. I was less angry and more afraid the more we learned about him." She looked

nauseous. "Anyway, things on Irk started to get very tense. People started coming after Maro and me again. I knew we couldn't win, so I told Maro we should go. He told me to get off the planet, that he had some friends who would help. He'd meet me later on; he had something he needed to check on at the palace. The monks brought me here. Now you want me to fight a war I've already lost."

"Yes. With an army this time."

"…Let me think. I need to be alone."

"If you would indulge me for just one moment," Mei began, "I would like to show you something."

Iris looked exhausted and completely drained of patience. "What?"

"Take my hands. I only need a moment."

No one knew what Mei showed her, but whatever Iris saw calmed her immensely. The tension disappeared from he body, as if she'd woken from the most restful sleep of her life. Whatever courage she had been looking for, whatever strength she'd been struggling to find within herself, she'd discovered it. Then, unexpectedly, softly, she smiled.

* * *

Spleenk stood in self-conscious silence with the rest of his team as the anxiety built within him. "I would appreciate it if you would keep what you heard in there to yourselves."

"It's already done." Mei replied enigmatically, "No one will remember unless absolutely necessary."

Spleenk saw no reason such knowledge would have any practical application and exhaled a great deal of stress. Mei spoke quite strangely sometimes, but at least it kept conversations interesting. "Thank you."

"It was very brave of you to share that with her. I hope you know that I deeply respect your courage." She said, "Not all warriors participate in combat. You, Spleenk, are a warrior of the heart. Never forget that." She finished, far more intensely than Spleenk had expected, "You will endure, but _only_ if you believe it."

Spleenk just nodded and looked somewhat uncomfortable.

Mei's expression softened in response. "I apologize if I have caused you discomfort." She said, "I am still adjusting to contemporary customs of social interaction." It was a lie, but a small one that eased the tension. She wanted to say more, but she knew that telling Spleenk about why he would need that endurance would put too much at risk. The path the Resistance would have to walk was beginning to take on a more solid shape. She could see several fixed points now. Some, she could warn them of and others, she could not and this was the latter. She knew that Spleenk would not be able to keep this knowledge to himself and the captain could not learn of it. Lard Nar would certainly intervene and all would be lost. It was unfair, but it was necessary.

She excused herself, leaving the four-armed alien in the company of Skoodge and Buir, who immediately struck up a conversation. Now that things were quiet, she settled her mind and reached out to her people.

" _I still do not understand why I was chosen for this journey. Why could the Divine Mistress not find you for Grel when he met her?"_ Mei asked.

" _She was not strong enough to find us."_ The response was not one voice, but a harmony of a billion voices.

" _She was certainly stronger than I am."_

" _She had to sacrifice part of herself so we could survive."_

Mei knew that her people were able to "break off" small pieces of their consciousness, but that could only happen upon death. _"I do not understand."_

" _She died and separated herself, but the division was not equal. One part came with us, and the other returned to her body greatly diminished. We understand it now, but before we became this, we thought it impossible. You can feel her presence, can you not?"_

Mei concentrated hard, trying to remember the distinct impression of the Divine Mistress's consciousness… It was there, like an old, familiar friend, but incomplete somehow.

" _Sacrifice,"_ the Divine Mistress's voice surfaced through the chorus of the others and became dominant, _"was necessary."_

Mei was silent for a long moment, processing this new knowledge. The Divine Mistress had fractured herself, irreparably lost a piece of what she was, and she'd done it willingly. She couldn't tell Mei where her people were at the time, because she did not know and was too weak to see past the perception shield. She was strong enough to create Grel's neural blocks, but that was no great feat for her kind.

Mei asked the question she'd been afraid of, _"Could we… could we have prevented this?"_

A great feeling of shame shuddered through the entity that was her people. _"If we had listened, Dear Sister, we might have. The fault is not yours to bear alone. We had all grown cynical and far too comfortable in our power. We shut our borders and stepped out when we should have spoken. We ignored what we knew was coming because we did not think it would impact us. All the prophecy and knowledge in the universe makes no difference in the face of willful ignorance. We are still paying the price of our folly, and will continue to do so until are worthy of forgiveness. When we are finished here, we will follow and protect the place you came from."_

Mei nodded. _"Malterra will be grateful for your assistance. I fear there will be many sick and wounded before too long, and they will need you."_

" _You may join us then, Dear Sister."_

The prophetess smiled sadly. For thousands of years, she had craved nothing else, and felt a sharp pang that ebbed to a dull throb somewhere in her chest. She'd never cried before, but the stinging, alien sensation in her eyes could be the harbinger of nothing else. _"There is nothing I should desire more. However, I must decline. There is yet work left for me to do."_

She sensed their confusion, and reached out to touch them with her mind. She felt their sorrow, their comfort, their raw, overpowering love and compassion fill her as her sight complimented their vision of the future, and they understood what she meant.

" _As you said,"_ she explained, entirely at peace, _"sacrifice is necessary."_

* * *

**Allusions & ** **References**

The bit about **breaking off part of one's consciousness** is shamelessly borrowed from Babylon 5 and the Vorlons (because I can)

**Notes**

**Cassoulet** is a French casserole that takes about 6 hours to make.

There was a string of events in my more reckless days that ended with the phrase "I shouldn't have done that last shot of Goldschläger." Lard Nar shares my pain.

I get a kick out of imagining how awful Red and Purple would be at domestic life. I know they'd have a dishwasher and all that, but there's always stuff that doesn't fit, and I figure Red would be extremely picky about his cookware (just because it _says_ "dishwasher safe" doesn't mean it actually _is)_.

Shorter than usual, but Mags talked some sense into me and I split what was something close to 50 pages in half. Good news is that I'll have the second part up by next week! Love to all of you!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks again to my lovely beta MagentaMauve, who Skyped with me for several hours to power-edit. If you haven't checked out her fic, When Worlds Collide, DO IT ASAP! It's funny and clever and I love it.
> 
> Also, a huge thank you to ILuvBoysInDresses, who made a lovely little animatic for this fic. Check it out at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=udsDRPNPU2s

**\- 23 -**

Phthalo had nearly raced through the day, as if time would speed up to keep pace with him. He caught himself anxiously tapping his foot, bouncing his leg, and fidgeting with just about anything within arms length several times within the first few hours, so he forced himself to be productive. He couldn't seem to get the smile off his face, and it only ever wavered when he and Cyanine had drawn up the plans for the fake "growth clinics". They had covered every possible outcome they could think of, but were careful of being overzealous.

They did not commit to a timeline out of fear that they might encounter an inspection-related delay, or that the IDA would intervene again and slow down their "supervisors'" projections. They couldn't afford to look bad. Letters of congratulation would be sent to "priority patients" letting them know that as soon as the drug was tested and perfectly safe, they would be among the first to receive it. Both Tallests had felt sick at this, but comforted themselves as best they could with the knowledge that these people would be equally as condemned under whoever might take his and Cyanine's places. The clinics would be set up in high-traffic areas like hospitals, banks, food courts, and so on, where symptoms could easily be attributed to something else. They hoped their "supervisors" would find these preparations satisfactory. Sobering as it was, Phthalo refused to think about it much. All he wanted was to be alone with Cyanine again.

They had grabbed barbecue for dinner and Phthalo had retired to his room first, neither wanting to draw any attention. Phthalo envied the amount of time the former Tallests had been able to spend together but he also resented them for it, because as a result, he and Cyanine had to be extremely careful. Still, Phthalo couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy, though he'd never met them.

He wondered if they'd held each other like he and Cyanine did, in the flickering glow of the vidscreen light, perhaps even on the same couch, upholstered red or purple. Had they examined the way that silver glow played off the other's face, and noticed the contours and shadows it revealed? Had either of them looked as beautiful as Cyanine? Phthalo could at least answer the last question with confidence.

No, they hadn't. No one could.

The series of knocks against the door he and his co-leader shared startled him back to reality and he smiled, knowing Cyanine was on the other side.

"It's open. Come in!"

Cyanine was dressed casually and smiling, though there was a nervous energy about him and he kept fidgeting with something in his hands.

The green-eyed Irken's heart was racing like a sprinter in his chest and he feared his brief window of courage would expire, so he quickly made his way to Phthalo and held the object in his hands, a small pink box, out to his co-leader. "I got you something." Cyanine said, "It's not much, but what you said this morning really stuck with me, and then I saw this and thought you should have it."

When he'd seen it, he'd instantly thought it was perfect; it was small, completely ordinary, and not strange at all for him to be buying. To ease suspicions, he'd haggled the price (or demanded, really) down to a quarter of its worth (though the Irken who'd sold it to him would unexpectedly discover a few hundred extra monies in his bag when he closed his shop). Now, though, he had his doubts. What if Phthalo took it the wrong way? It was probably too soon to give him something imbued with so much meaning, but he couldn't stop himself from releasing the package when his co-leader took it.

The blue-eyed Irken had never received a gift before and wasn't sure how to react. He was fairly certain that smiling like a giddy idiot and squealing with delight were not appropriate responses, so he suppressed the impulse. He did blush; he couldn't help it, and replied, "You didn't have to do that, Cy," as he studied the box in his lap.

Cyanine's hands felt strangely numb as he sat down beside Phthalo, unsure of what he was supposed to do now. "Well, I wanted to." He answered, "I-I hope, I thought, oh just open it."

Phthalo unwrapped the gift with more care than was really necessary and lifted lid. The small, reflective glass that lay inside stole all the air from his lungs. He didn't know what to feel. His chest ached. He was both crushed and elated, horrified and somehow still deeply grateful.

Cyanine sensed Phthalo's confusion and tried to explain, "When I used the shower this morning I noticed you didn't have a mirror, but I didn't remember why until you said you didn't like yourself. I thought that maybe if you could see yourself the way I do, it might, I don't know, make things better." He steeled himself and drew in a deep breath before letting it out, "I really like you, Phthalo. I know that if you had a choice in any of this, you'd make the right one."

It wasn't what he'd rehearsed in his head, and it had come out half-assed and far less poetic than he'd hoped. Phthalo still hadn't moved, and Cyanine was starting to worry. He sighed, struggling against his own anxiety, "If you can look at me and say _I'm_ not a monster, you deserve to see yourself the same way."

There was another silence interrupted by Phthalo cautiously placing the box on the table in front of them. Cyanine felt the couch shift as his co-leader reoriented himself, surprising Cyanine by gently taking his face in his hands. Phthalo's eyes were shining and his expression was unreadable. He slowly, carefully tilted his head and leaned in so close that Cyanine could taste his exhale. Something inside him began to hum. He forgot how to breathe as he shuddered involuntarily and closed his eyes.

The contact was so light at first Cyanine could only register it as a warm buzzing that hovered over his lips, and he instinctually leaned into the gesture. His head spun and something warm stirred low in his stomach and sent electricity up his spine.

The kiss was equal parts curiosity and affection, a spark they passed between themselves with caution and concern. It was tentative and delicate, gradually becoming more exploratory as they began to relax. Cyanine's palms found their way to Phthalo's back and he felt one of the hands on his face slip down around his shoulders. He caught Phthalo's bottom lip between his own lips and hesitated. Phthalo's breathing was deafening. Maybe that was his own. He cursed himself for his cowardice as Phthalo withdrew a few inches.

"Thank you," Phthalo whispered.

The sensation of Phthalo's breath against his lips made Cyanine dizzy. His pulse raced. He didn't notice his own shaking. He swallowed, "Y-you're welcome."

A moment passed and Phthalo pulled back slightly further, as if realizing now the gravity of what he'd done. An irrevocable line had been crossed on impulse, and it looked like he was trying to decide how he felt about it.

Before he could reach a conclusion, Cyanine pulled him close and they were kissing again. It wasn't nearly as timid and cautious as the first, and Cyanine was eager to rectify his earlier mistake and deepen the kiss as soon as Phthalo would let him. He'd only ever seen it done in vids, and he knew he might be bad, but _dear Irk_ , he had to try.

When he felt Cyanine's clumsy, inexperienced tongue teasing at his bottom lip, Phthalo shivered and drew in a sharp breath. He had always assumed that such an unsanitary and needlessly biological business would be appalling in practice, but he found the experience absolutely intoxicating as he hesitantly opened his mouth to allow Cyanine access. Phthalo moaned when he tasted Cyanine and willingly met his partner's tongue with his own, abandoning his earlier reluctance. Teeth clacked together awkwardly but not painfully, so neither of them paid it any mind. He had no idea what he was doing, but as long as Cyanine wasn't complaining, he would assume it was going well.

How could it possibly be anything else? Cyanine's mouth was warm and wet and he tasted clean and smelled faintly of jasmine. His tongue was soft, and Phthalo thought inexplicably of velvet when he tried to describe it. He pulled Cyanine closer, and Irk help him, he wasn't going to let go until Cyanine told him to. It wasn't close enough, though, and he made a small, frustrated little noise as he pressed own his tongue into Cyanine's mouth.

It wasn't aggressive, but it was unexpectedly enthusiastic, and Cyanine was surprised but not deterred by his partner's sudden assertiveness. He let Phthalo pull him tighter, longing to eliminate as much of the space between their bodies as they could. He moaned softly, stroking Phthalo's tongue with his own in what he hoped was an encouraging and affectionate gesture, as if to say, _"it's okay, yes, whatever you need, I'm here, I'm here, I'm here"_.

They kissed until they couldn't breathe, and even then, broke apart only to press their foreheads together. That strange, nameless feeling swelled in their heaving chests and neither one of them felt ashamed.

Cyanine reached up and gently cupped Phthalo's chin, "You're beautiful." He whispered, drawing the other in for a much gentler, more deliberate kiss.

Phthalo let himself receive it as every inner voice that screamed in disagreement faded into smoke. The hand beneath his chin slid down his neck and rested over the center of his chest meaningfully for a moment before pulling him close again, this time in an embrace. Suddenly, he knew what he'd wanted to tell Cyanine this morning.

"You're going to make me fall in love with you," he whispered against Cyanine's cheek.

"Good," Cyanine replied, "you can catch up to me on your way down."

Phthalo laughed softly, closing his eyes as he let his head fall to his co-leader's shoulder. "I have no idea how any of this is supposed to work," The blue-eyed Irken confessed, taking hold of both his partner's hands and threading their fingers together, "but I want to do it right."

"Me too." Cyanine agreed.

"So where do we go from here?"

Cyanine exhaled slowly, "Nowhere, for now. Not until we're both ready."

It was exactly the answer Phthalo needed to hear.

* * *

They watched the pink dot on radar travel along the pink flight path that, according to Mimi, was the _Miyuki's_ most probable course. The ship had just come within broadcast range of Zim's Voot, which was positioned close enough to their anticipated flight path so as not to be an inconvenience, but not so close it warranted suspicion. They would be notified of the mayday soon, and events would depend entirely on whether or not the _Miyuki_ held course.

Dib could see the tension in Tak's body as she watched the screen with an intense focus, as though she could, by sheer will, force the ship onto the path she wanted it to take. The human tried to ignore his own pounding heartbeat and shallow breath as seconds dragged grudgingly. The ship held course, and then slowly, it shifted toward the disabled Voot. Tak let out a breath but did not relax. Dib had a feeling she wouldn't until the mission was over.

A maneuver that took ten minutes might well have aged Dib ten decades as the spacecraft drifted steadily toward its new target. It stopped moving and waited, and Dib gasped when he saw the vessel extend a docking tube. As soon as the tube had sealed onto the Voot's escape hatch, mechanical tendrils coiled around it, sinking sharp metal teeth into the ship's hull. The ship's lights flickered, and then went out.

Tak nodded at the human, "Hail them."

Dib nodded back and swallowed hard. He took a deep breath, wiped his hands on his coat, which suddenly felt far too warm, and reached out to the other ship with the press of a button.

A formidable-looking Irken with a jaw like a brick glared at him from the screen. He was not as bulky as he remembered Sizz-Lorr, perhaps half the size, but he was hard edges and muscle where the frycook had been comfortably round. The lines beneath his eyes were not carved from age or fragility, but likely from experience. His eyes were hard but he was clearly unperturbed by the fact that his ship was no longer under his control and currently rigged to explode as he focused them intently on Dib. "You're either well-armed or incredibly stupid." He said.

_Well, we certainly aren't well-armed_ the human thought _. Best not answer that question._ "General Tho," Dib began, "it's an honor to speak to you, Sir. I'm sorry it has to be under these circumstances, but please hear me out; we don't mean you or your crew any harm. You _think_ you are in possession of an Irken growth drug, but what you've really got is a lethal, possibly contagious virus. We need that virus to reverse-engineer a cure."

The ex-general chuckled gruffly. "If I've got a biological weapon on board I'd hurl it into the nearest star before I'd turn it over to _you_ , whoever you are."

"That's fine!" Dib replied, "Hurl away!"

"I may be a disgraced old bastard, but I'm _not_ stupid." Tho retorted.

"Speaking of which," Dib said, trying to segue as smoothly and naturally as possible into his target subject, "you named your ship _Miyuki_. I keep asking myself why a guy who lost his command and professional reputation would name his ship after the leader who disgraced him."

He snapped so viciously that Dib had to force himself not to flinch, "You don't know a damn _thing_ about Kiki."

_He didn't expect that_ , Dib thought. _He expected demands or threats, and he wasn't ready for someone to bring her up. He lashed out. That's something._ "…Kiki?

Tho looked puzzled and shocked, completely unaware that he'd let the nickname slip. Dib thought his face went slightly pale. " _Where_ did you hear that name?"

The human remained expressionless and forced himself to appear casual, even though his hands were clutching the armrests of his chair, and in all likelihood, tearing into the fabric. "You used it a moment ago. I've never known anyone to call a Tallest by such an informal name. Even Tallest Red never used Purple's childhood nickname in public, and they grew up together. Hell, even Zim, who had _no sense_ of boundaries and thought he was better than everyone else, had enough respect to call them by their proper titles."

"She wasn't like _them_ ," he said with no small amount of distain.

"And neither are you," Dib replied pointedly, "You exposed atrocities committed by your own side. You wouldn't let it stay covered up. She wouldn't either. Did she ever tell you why she couldn't issue a retreat?"

He looked at the boy with an almost undetectable spark of curiosity he had nearly smothered in years of practiced stoicism.

"It's always bothered you, hasn't it? Why a woman like her wouldn't speak out immediately against what you'd reported."

"And I suppose you're going to tell me _you_ have the answer," It was meant to sound unimpressed, and it did, but Dib swore that he could hear the faintest trace of hope.

"You and I _both_ know the answer," Dib replied pointedly. He had no credibility here, and if he wanted to convince Tho, he was going to have to rely on the former general's intelligence and prey on the suspicions Dib had to hope he harbored. "The only reason she wouldn't issue a retreat is because she _couldn't_. She wasn't calling the shots."

He chuckled, "I never met a goddamn soul who could tell Miyuki what to do."

"Then why didn't she issue the retreat until _after_ you went to the press? Why did she need you to do that in the first place?"

Tho's eyes changed. It was a close to a gut-punch as Dib could've come, and he saw it in the set of Tho's jaw and the clenching of his neck; the hard swallow that rippled down his throat and the shallow exhale that followed it. It was a question that haunted him, because she hadn't answered when _he'd_ asked it.

Dib took a breath and continued, "What if she knew she'd be killed if she retreated, and the only way to keep Irk out of war was for her to stay alive?"

Practiced neutrality became an angry snarl, "She'd never let anyone hurt her and live to tell about it!"

Denial. _Good, he's afraid_. This was the opening Dib had been waiting for. He had to keep pushing, but he had to be delicate. He looked at Tho with what he hoped was empathy. "I know you saw it in her. The tiredness in her eyes, the weariness. The empty, hollow laugh. Maybe sometimes she said strange things or made weird jokes you didn't understand. You tried to figure out what she meant, but it never made sense. You thought it was just the pressure getting to her. After the Riots, she really changed, and you hardly spoke at all. I bet you talked to her just before she died, though. You were afraid for her. Something was wrong and you knew it was going to be the last time." Dib was guessing with that last bit, and he knew it could backfire, but he had to try. If he were wrong, well, that would tell him something, too.

Tho swallowed hard. This was all wrong. He _knew_ it was wrong; all his years of military training berated him for listening, for wanting to believe. He'd thought that Miyuki's place in his memory had calloused over like the rest of him, and was shocked to find how embarrassingly soft it still was.

Their last conversation still haunted him, and he played it back in his memory. This creature seemed to know exactly what she'd said, and had a response to perfectly fill in all the holes of the sieve she'd left him with to sift the truth from the rest of the sand.

" _I've been quiet these last few years, and I've done things… made choices that must confuse you. Sometimes, the hand that holds the weapon is as much a tool as the weapon itself. I hope you will remember me fondly, the way we were before the burdens of this charade. The blood I've spilled, it was… no. Never mind that. I need you safe, Tho. Stay out of the way. Make them forget you even exist."_

" _What are you taking about, Kiki?"_

The way she smiled at the nickname hurt him. _"I don't have long. I'm calling from the Military Development Center on Vort, scrambling the hell out of my signal. I just… I wanted you to know before, well…"_ she drew a deep breath and collected herself. " _We don't have a word for it, Tho, but if we did, I'd tell you how I feel about you. You're a good man, and in another life, I think we might've been happy. I should have been more careful. Should have kept you out of it,"_ She sighed, as if summoning strength, _"I wish there were a better ending. Do you remember that time we talked about dying on the battlefield? You're fatally wounded and you've got one shot left: what do you do? Remember what we decided?"_

He nodded, feeling something terrible mass in his throat as his gut went cold. _"That it depends on what the enemy'll do to you before you die."_

" _I knew you'd understand."_

And then she was gone. A freak accident, everyone had said, consumed by some experiment gone wrong. But she had made her schedule that day and knew the projects she'd be observing; she'd put the energy-generating device right next to the energy-absorbing blob, and she'd known about Zim's tendencies because she'd _sent_ him there to begin with. She'd walked into it knowing that she wasn't walking back out.

He'd ranted about conspiracies with his closest crew, the ones who'd been there on Vort with him, and the only thing that kept him from screaming about it was Miyuki's final request and copious amounts of gin. Gin had been their drink of choice since their Academy days, and no matter how badly the alcohol loosened his tongue, the taste on it always reminded him to stay quiet.

"I think… I mean, it seems to me that the only thing she cared about more than her people was you, Tho." Dib explained gently, "And once _They_ knew that, your life became leverage. She was strong as hell, and she could deal with torture and pain, and universe knows what other horrors, but she couldn't live with losing you."

Everything slid into place and he felt simultaneously the deepest hurt and the greatest relief he'd ever experienced, and they tore him in two. One hand of each emotion gripped his throat and squeezed, as if vying for dominance without regard to his body's survival. He knew she'd meant to say, _"The blood I've spilled… it was for you"_ , only she hadn't finished the sentence because he'd never forgive her for it, and she couldn't die with him angry at her. She loved him, the way he'd always loved her, and it sliced him open like a hacksaw: brutal, messy, and slow.

The former-general's face shifted, and Dib knew he believed. "…Can you prove it?"

Dib took a breath, "Yes," he said, "but I need some time. I'm waiting on a data transmission. It shouldn't be long."

"What does this have to do with my cargo?"

"The people who hurt Miyuki are going to use it against Irk. We can't let that happen."

Tho was silent for a moment. "I need to talk this over with my people. Hail me when you've got the data. It's not like I'm going anywhere." He said. There was something defeated in his voice.

Dib nodded firmly and ended the call, finally collapsing into his seat with temporary relief.

"Nice work," Tak offered, keeping careful watch over her monitor. "You think he bought it, or he's just stalling for time?"

The human sighed, his eyes closed. "If he doesn't believe me, he will soon enough."

* * *

When the files came in, Dib understood why it had taken so long and his stomach churned. He felt terrible sadness for the former general, and steeled himself before reaching out again.

Tho answered the call immediately, "Do you have it?"

Dib nodded, "It's… sensitive." He explained, "This is for you, and you alone. Each file will self-delete after you've viewed it; we can't risk what we know getting out yet."

Tho looked skeptical and suspicious, "How do you expect me to verify the information's authenticity?"

The human could not keep his expression from twisting uncomfortably, "There are… videos."

The Irken's clenched fists shook and he paled visibly, took a breath, steadied himself, and then nodded. "Very well. I'll give you the information for my private line. I'm sure you'll be able to verify its security. I can't send outgoing communications, so just keep hailing me until I pick up."

Dib nodded apologetically. "I will. And, General Tho," he said respectfully, "I'm sorry."

He didn't send it all; just what would make his point the strongest and cut the deepest. Something inside the human teenager felt sick for doing this, for breaking a man's soul, but it was necessary. He'd always believed ignorance was the enemy, regardless of the damage the truth might cause, but now he understood the appeal.

Dib knew what was happening without ever pulling up the security feed from the general's quarters; Tho had opened the first file, the one with basic information, and then moved to the notes regarding Miyuki's noncompliance and _Their_ growing frustration. Tho would recoil and deny it, and then he'd get to the one with the video that would break what was left of his heart.

" _I bet you think you're clever,"_ that horrible voice would say, _"going against our execution order. You think he's untouchable now, don't you,_ Kiki _?"_

He would see the raw, unadulterated terror in her eyes, as if she'd completely forgotten her left arm was hanging loosely from her shoulder at a strange angle indicating its dislocation, as though she wasn't clutching her ribcage with the other and struggling for breath, as though the fear were more powerful than the pain.

" _You know, you_ almost _had me fooled. Here I thought I finally had a worthy adversary, but you're just as pathetic as them all."_ The voice would seethe, _"I wonder, what's he worth to you,_ Kiki _?"_

" _He has_ nothing _to do with this,"_ she would reply, wincing in pain, _"he's just a soldier."_

" _So you won't mind that we've rigged his reactor core to explode once the ship achieves cruising velocity. Good to know."_

" _If he dies_ , _"_ she would say, _"everyone will know it was an inside job. There'll be an investigation."_

" _Oh? By whom?"_

Miyuki would glare hopelessly.

" _Now, we've gone through that report of his, and I must say, it looks like some of our soldiers have_ quite _the imagination. The things they think up, sometimes… lethal to Vortians of course, but I'm curious about what they'd do to an Irken. Since your friend was kind enough to document all that for us, it'd be a pity to let his hard work go to waste."_

She would vomit gracelessly, screaming in pain as the clenching of her stomach squeezed her broken ribs. The pain would only make her vomit again, until she was too weak to do anything but collapse.

" _It's too bad you'll be so busy here with us that you won't get to say goodbye to your soldier."_

Her horrified eyes would open.

A chuckle, _"You don't think we're going to risk letting you tip him off, do you?"_ He shook his head, _"Do give us_ some _credit."_

She would understand exactly what was happening, it would show on her face, and she'd cry.

"We _haven't killed him, Dear._ You _have."_

"… _What do I have to do to change your mind?"_

" _At this point, you've made such a mess of things that you've outlived your potential usefulness. Unless, of course, you want to make it up to us. This little stunt with Vort has cost us_ years _of work."_

She would close her eyes, _"Compliance."_

" _If you so much as_ think _about defying us again, your friend dies. Remember, we had no problem killing… whatever her name was."_

" _Li…"_ Miyuki would reply. _"Her name was Li."_

" _Do we have an agreement?"_

She would clench her eyes shut and her expression would be one of pure self-loathing, _"Yes."_

He would nod, and order one of the guards at the door to prevent the ship from taking off and fix the problem.

" _You understand I can't just take you at your word, of course."_

She would nod. _"What's next? Boil me alive like in that report?"_

He would chuckle, _"Not quite. But you're close."_

Dib hoped Tho would stop there. He hadn't been able to bring himself to continue. This wasn't like a movie, where you could alleviate your discomfort by wondering what the blood was made out of, or admire the skills of a make-up artist. She wasn't a protagonist; she had been a _person_. Seeing the pain the conversation caused her was more than enough for the human.

He'd threatened Zim with bodily harm before, shouted about things like alien autopsies or experiments he'd like to do without concern for how it might affect the Irken. Granted, Zim had been trying to kill _him_ too, so Dib couldn't be too severe in his self-condemnation, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of horror when he looked back. He had wanted to take the life of another living creature, not for survival, but for… what? Vindication? Glory? His father's approval? It made him sick to think about. Some of his own threats sounded as though they might've come from the mouth of the black-clad Irken in the video. Then again, this was undoubtedly helped by the fact that Zim's personality had been intolerable and he was there to wipe out life on Earth, so again, he couldn't feel too badly about it. There was a point somewhere, in these jumbled and emotionally-charged thoughts, but he couldn't work it out just yet.

* * *

Everyone began to get twitchy after an hour and a half of waiting, when Tho finally picked up their call.

"What do you need me to do?" He asked.

"Have your people stand down and let us on board. We'll take the cargo and remove its tracker. We'll send a location that you and anyone who's interested in defecting can head to when we're done, and an emissary will meet you there. Anyone who wants to go back to Irk can get in an escape pod, and we'll launch them on their merry way."

Tho nodded in agreement and waited until Tak restored his com access remotely. He took a deep breath and spoke. "This is Captain Tho to all crew: stand down and prepare to be boarded. Article 3 is in effect. I repeat, stand down and prepare to be boarded. Article 3 in effect."

"It's surrender," Tak explained, "Article 3, I mean."

Dib nodded in understanding.

"Camera feeds are down in the mess hall, Mistress! And we just lost the camera outside the reactor core." Mimi said urgently.

"How? It's all under our control!"

"Blunt force, it would appear."

No matter how advanced your security system was, nothing stood up to a lead pipe for long.

"What?!" The ex-general boomed loudly in a disbelieving voice, getting on his com system, " _Stand down!_ You have been _ordered_ to _stand down!_ Anyone disobeying this order will be treated as a threat to this ship!"

"Someone just tired force their way into the reactor core." Mimi explained, "Shots fired in the cargo bay."

"Lulu, Zim, prepare for launch." Tak ordered, "Get to the cargo bay and secure the payload. We've got hostiles mixed in with the crew, so be careful!"

"Someone tell me what the _hell_ is happening!" Tho shouted irritably.

"How well do you know your crew?" Tak asked.

"Most of them served with me during the Riots."

"The staff, too?"

He looked flustered, "Well, no, they were assigned with the ship."

"Shit." Tak swore, "It's _Them_."

A wave of nausea passed through Dib and his face went white for a moment. How could he have missed it?! He'd put everything else together; he should have expected they'd be there. How else could they have threatened Miyuki so well?

"Hey, no vomiting on duty!" Tak snapped, "Mimi, I need you to secure the com array on the _Miyuki_. If we lose coms, we're done for."

Mimi gave a firm nod and bolted for the nearest airlock.

" _Dralal_ , we got more than we bargained for. Baddies mixed in with the regulars. Launch fighters and shoot anything on the ship's surface that _isn't_ a SIR unit!"

"Roger that. Over and out!" Came the response.

Dib watched the tactical display as eight blue dots appeared and began moving toward the pink icon denoting the _Miyuki_. He also watched Captain Tho suiting up and arming himself for battle.

"Captain Tho," Dib began, "you can't go out there!"

"Bull _shit_!" He grunted, "My people are getting shot at! I will _not_ sit here and wait to be rescued like a god-damned princess!"

"How will you tell everyone apart?"

"Simple. They shoot at me, I kill 'em."

"Captain,"

But he was gone.

"The ship's gonna blow anyway," Tak said, in what was likely an attempt at comfort that failed miserably, "let him go out doing right by his people."

"What if we get all the hostiles?"

"Dib, we can't be sure." Her voice was strangely didactic.

"I'm _pretty sure_ anyone who served during the Riots is a safe bet!"

"So what?"

"So, we get them on _our side_! Can you imagine how fucked Irk would be if we showed up with a destroyer? The tactical advantage would be incredible! They'd be the only ship that could get behind enemy lines! Not to mention that this guy wants revenge for Miyuki. I know I don't get a vote, but you really need to think about this!"

She didn't look happy.

"Okay, what if- let me… let me go through the files I have from the Void. If I filter it down to Tho, I might be able to find a list of operatives. Let me send the query to Sally, and see what she can come up with." He tried.

Tak didn't give a definitive reply. She grit her teeth, as if weighing her options. "Go ahead and do it. But I'm not promising anything. The mission comes first. Our people's safety comes after that."

Dib knew minds like Tak's were necessary in war, but he still loathed the ruthless calculus. "Just remember that until recently, _our people_ were Earth and Irk before the resistance gave us a chance."

Tak was stunned, but only for a moment. Dib expected her expression to sour, but instead, it turned thoughtful. "Come up with a plan I can trust and we'll see."

Lulu's voice on the com-link interrupted the conversation, "We're at the cargo bay airlock. Open her up and let us in, Tak."

"Gotcha. Be prepared for armed resistance." She said, remotely activating the outer airlock door.

"We're not going in right away," Lulu explained. They'll know the airlock is open, so just keep opening and closing it at random until we give the signal."

They were not, in fact, in the cargo bay airlock as they'd claimed. They had been there, but only for a moment. They were instead crawling along the hull of the ship in the direction of the docking bay's maintenance hatch.

It was true that nearly everything on Irk was automated, so it went without saying that when an automated system failed, it did so in spectacularly catastrophic ways, often with an impressive cascade of equally disastrous consequences. Zim himself was proof of that, as was the infamous _Annihilator_ Debacle that occurred when he was merely a smeet (and surprisingly, had nothing to do with).

The ship had showed up, fired on its enemy, and then the docking bay failed to open and its Spittle Runners could not deploy. Long story short, the _Annihilator_ was _annihilated_. This was all rather embarrassing for Irk, and so from then on, emergency maintenance hatches were built into the design of every ship. Nobody had ever gotten close enough to a destroyer to attempt what Zim and Lulu were about to do, so precautions against an act of such desperate, suicidal insanity had never been considered.

The entire shaft system was structured thus: a hatch on the ship's exterior would open into a depressurized corridor. This was the part of the vessel's hull where its shielding and insulation were located. They would come to a small airlock that led to the pressurized part of the inner hull, which would be where ducts and wiring and other things best not left in a vacuum ran through the walls. From there, if followed to its logical conclusion, the corridor would lead to the final hatch that opened into the cabin of the ship.

Lulu's acetylene torch made short work of the surface hatch door, though they kept it on its hinges. Zim irrationally duct taped the broken seal from the inside; it wouldn't do much good, but hey, it was worth a try.

The small, narrow passageway forced even Zim to crawl, but it was only a few feet before they reached the outer airlock hatch. She fired up the torch again and breached the door effortlessly, as there was no pressure on the other side. She proceeded to repeat the process on the inner airlock door, but she did it slowly, allowing the pressure inside to bleed out first. Zim could hardly stand waiting, but she reminded him that if he didn't like the way she was doing things, he was welcome to eat a face full of airlock door when it got sucked off its hinges into the vacuum of space.

It was only slightly more difficult than the previous door, but the hatch connecting the maintenance corridor to the inside of the ship was still sealed tightly, so it wasn't much of an issue. The real trouble would come when they cut through the wall of the corridor.

Lulu pulled up the ship schematic on her HUD and crawled forward a few more feet. She gestured to her left, "This the spot?"

Zim gave her an uncertain smile that did not add to her confidence.

She sighed and shrugged, applying the torch to the left wall of the tunnel. She immediately felt air rushing through, even against her suit, and slowed down so the sheet of metal would not be ripped from the wall. It wasn't as bad as she thought it would be, and wondered if the duct tape had helped after all. She cut away a square large enough for them to fit through and turned on the flashlight mounted on the wrist of her suit as she stuck her head through to survey the situation. They were inside the pressurized walls of the ship, where the ductwork and plumbing were housed. She needed to find the one that would take them to the cargo bay. Lulu climbed through, and tested a large heavy pipe with her hand to see if it would bear her weight. Satisfied, she climbed to sit on it and urged Zim through. He patched the hole they'd made with more duct tape while Lulu tried to find the ventilation duct that matched the one on her schematic.

Voices began to clamor outside, and Zim started, nearly dropping the roll of tape. Lulu gave him a sharp glare that suggested he not even _think_ about it. He gave her a nod, and after things had gone quiet she went to work on opening the duct. It was wider than the maintenance corridor, but just as tall, so it looked like more squeezing was in her future.

They moved through the ducts as quickly and silently as possible, until they found themselves in the cargo bay. Through the metal grate, they could make out five armed Irkens, the cargo, and roughly eight bodies. Someone was banging angrily on the cargo bay door (even though the Irkens inside could not have opened it if they wanted to with Tak's lockdown in place).

"You know what wouldda been nice," Lulu muttered quietly.

"What?"

"Some goddamn grenades."

Zim's devious grin could only mean one thing.

A mischievous gleam flickered in Lulu's blue eyes as he handed her four round, shiny objects. " _That's_ more like it." She said, clipping three to her belt. "If only we'd planted some in the airlock, we _really_ couldda surprised 'em."

"Well," Zim started, "it's not a grenade, but I did leave, er, _something_ in the airlock."

When the inner airlock door finally opened, the four Irkens positioned at the door opened fire. It sounded like an out-of-control dryer from hell filled with marbles and loose change. This attempt to reduce whoever was inside the airlock to a messy eruption of organic matter made the sound of someone kicking through an air vent grate rather inaudible, and the sound of a pistol firing was but a single shot in a thundering chorus of thousands.

The stutter of automatic weapon fire drew to an abrupt halt as there was a distinct and surprising lack of… well, _everything_. Instead, much to their horror and confusion, there was a single, blue-eyed SIR unit waving its own dismembered arm around, running in a circle, shouting "WEEEEEEEE!" in what could only be described as psychotic glee.

It then stopped, shoved the arm back into its proper socket, reached into its head and withdrew a long, white, cylindrical can, which it pointed at the armed Irkens before depressing the nozzle. The bright orange substance that bordered on neon squirted with the vigor of water from a fire hose, covering them from head to toe in imitation-cheese product.

They didn't have long to register this, though, because the considerable explosion that erupted behind them eliminated all brain functions. The last sound that registered dimly in the back of their minds as consciousness fled, never to return, was the delighted squeal of, "I'm on FIRE! YAAAAAAY!"

Tak couldn't decide whether she was furious or impressed. Maybe a little of both was in order.

* * *

They touched down on Mars near what remained of its famous face and suited up before stepping out onto the dusty, battered red surface. It was carved up with massive craters and deep gouges, as if it had been hurled through the asteroid belt and abandoned there… which, of course, it _had_.

Wires and tubes and shards of metal littered the surface. There was no trace of even residual backup power. The entire planet was absolutely, hopelessly _trashed_.

"It looks… broken." Lard Nar ventured, poking at the remains of what must have been part of a towering pilot's chair.

"Yeah. Um, Zim kind of used to do that." Tenn replied, observing the tattered remnants of a ragged, red Irken pennant on the ground. "Well, let's run some scans and launch a few probes anyway. If we can't activate it, maybe the data we collect will be useful. Then we'll check out Mercury."

Lard Nar nodded in agreement and got to work. The engineer in him couldn't help but marvel at what must have been a spectacular feat, converting a planet to a spaceship, and wondered just how the hell they'd done it; but there was another, more skeptical part of him that simply wondered _why_. Why waste so much time and exhaust all resources for such an impractical endeavor?

It _was_ cool, there was no doubting that. As he absentmindedly kicked the ground, a small chunk the size of his palm came loose beneath his foot, and he reached down to lift it up. It was just a rock, but in lieu of a gift shop, it would have to do. He was sure Spleenk had been joking when he'd asked the captain to bring him a souvenir, but he knew the gesture would make the other alien smile. He had the feeling Spleenk might need that later.

"Collecting mineral samples is a good idea," Tenn remarked over his com-link.

"Oh, yes, well, this one's not a sample… more of a souvenir." He explained, "I ah, promised somebody one."

The Irken gave him a knowing smile, "In that case, come check out this crater," she said, "looks like whatever pounding it took exposed some seriously ancient bedrock. If you cleaned it up a bit, I bet it'd be beautiful."

The captain fired his maneuvering thrusters to meet her at the lip of an impact crater and she handed him a small piece of rock. It was dusty and gray, but he could see flecks of purple and green shimmering beneath the surface.

"Nice find." He said appreciatively, "Do you mind if I have the probe grab a chunk?"

There was a time when she'd have said yes. She would have argued that they didn't have time to be wasting on things like sentimental gifts. This was life and death on a scale they had yet to really appreciate, and every second counted. The latter remained true, but now she saw the other side of it. They _had_ to take these little moments, had to make time for… it was the wrong word, she knew, but since Irk didn't have one, "humanity" was the only thing that popped into her head. The appreciation and quiet celebration of the creatures around you for no other reason than they were simply alive, and so were you. That no matter how different, you shared the same universe, and in spite of all the odds, existed. Life was fragile, she had realized, and it was easy to lose sight of what really mattered: things like souvenir rocks, movie nights, and toy lasers. All beautifully imperfect, but somehow, all the lovelier for it.

"Just so you know," she said, ordering the probe to seek out a nice, colorful deposit and exhume a chunk, "I approve. Of Spleenk, I mean."

He should have guessed she'd know. If she figured out how he took his coffee, she'd probably seen them going into his room the night before. "Are you saying that as Security Chief or just Tenn?"

"Both."

The captain looked at her as if to say, _please don't tell me you ran a background check on my boyfriend. That's something I'd expect from Red, not you._

"It's not like I ran a _full_ background check." She replied, defending herself, "I just needed to make sure my Captain was in good hands."

"Well, thank you, I guess. Just don't do it again."

"…So, are they?"

"What?"

Tenn raised her eyebrows suggestively, "Good hands?"

"Oh Vort, you're just as bad as the rest of them!"

The female Irken giggled, "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it."

Lard Nar drew in a breath and crossed his arms over his chest, "And since you asked, _yes_. Quite good."

They stood there, staring out over the lip of the crater in amiable silence while the probe happily hummed and whirred, meandering about the depression, searching for the perfect sample.

* * *

"I don't know if I ever got around to thanking you for saving my life on Vort," Tenn said as she settled into her chair. They were cruising at an impressive speed toward Mercury, which she hoped would be less broken and more helpful than Mars. She'd met Zim and Dib, though, so she wasn't holding out much hope. "It's long overdue, but thank you, Captain. I'm really, really grateful."

"We're soldiers." He said, "It's what we do. You don't need to thank me, but I appreciate the gratitude."

"That's the thing, though," she said, "I've been a soldier all my life and I never would've gone back for anyone. Everything they teach at the Academy is about self-preservation at any cost. Offering aid or assistance counts against you."

The captain sighed, "Why am I not surprised? We're going to have such a mess on our hands when this is all over."

Tenn looked concerned, "How so?"

"Your job is going to get a whole lot harder with a planet full of angry Irkens demanding to know why they're being told to give up the empire. _Somebody_ on one side or the other is bound to try something stupid."

"Like what?"

He shrugged, "Like making a point with explosives, or guns, or something, the way people with small minds do when they're scared."

Tenn hadn't even begun to think about what would come _after_ the war, and it showed on her face.

"There's no reason to focus on that now," Lard Nar said, trying to ease her worry, "there's plenty to keep us busy until then. It's part of my job to make sure we have some kind of framework in place to keep everything together if things go our way. The universal economy's going to tank and people still need to eat. You know what they say about civilization being two meals and 24-hours away from barbarism, and all that."

The Irken examined her captain with a long, thoughtful glance. This was a man with no rose-colored perceptions about revolution. He saw the battle, and past the battle, and she could not deny that she was deeply impressed.

"Maybe we start a peacekeeping force? Purely defensive…" She sighed, "you want something intimidating enough to convince everyone to leave their weapons at home, but not so scary it's _repressive_. We'll need to find some way to screen for bias, too. Ugh, is it too late to turn down this job?"

Lard Nar laughed, "No take-backs," he said. "Like I said, don't worry about it now. You're not doing this on your own; you'll have help."

"I wonder if Som Saa would be willing to work with me on that. Do you think he's still mad about the malfunctioning SIR units? Because those _weren't_ my fault."

He looked at her seriously, "Are you sure _you're_ okay to work with him? He was the one who captured you."

She waved his concern away with her hand, "Old news. It was the best thing that could've happened to me. I'll send a message his way just to test the waters." She said decisively.

The computerized voice told them they were entering Mercury's atmosphere, and should fasten their seatbelts to avoid bodily injury. It just didn't have the same panache as Red's announcements.

The descent was bumpy and turbulent, but it evened out and they found the landing sight gradually coming into view.

"So," Lard Nar said, staring out the window; his expression was somewhere between sour, amused, and wondering if he'd gone insane, "is it me or does that surface formation look like… something rather juvenile and inappropriate?"

Tenn laughed, a bit harder than Lard Nar anticipated. He hadn't pegged her for the type of person amused by that sort of thing. Then again, she'd surprised him once today in that regard.

"…I'm, I'm sorry," she managed, "it's just… can you imagine how uncomfortable this moment would be if we'd brought Red along?"

"Dear Vort…" The captain groaned, rubbing his forehead as a litany of horrible innuendos bombarded his consciousness. There would be obligatory _in the butt_ jokes until Purple intervened. Red would teasingly ask Purple if he were jealous, and reassure him that _you're the only piece of ass I want_ which, depending on Purple's level of visible agitation, might include groping. Purple wouldn't like being referred to in such a crude way, and there would be something about Red's ass sleeping in the lounge.

Tenn saw the painful cringe on the captain's face, "I guess you can imagine it pretty well."

"Unfortunately."

* * *

Mercury wasn't in exactly the same state as Mars, but comparing the respective states of disrepair was like comparing two cars on opposite sides of a head-on crash. One was worse than the other, but only because the driver had gotten out of the vehicle and attacked his car with a spiked baseball bat.

"How are we supposed to activate it?" The captain asked skeptically.

"I don't know," Tenn replied. She thought for a moment, shrugged, and then kicked the shape in the ground, "Hey, you… wake up!"

Lard Nar was about to roll his eyes when there was a slight rumble and a holographic image flickering to life.

"Hi there pilot, how're you doing?" It asked pleasantly, addressing Tenn.

"Good," she replied, "we're fine."

"Um," it began tentatively, "there's _something else_ here with you," it explained in a loud whisper, gesturing toward Lard Nar emphatically with its eyes, "…What is that _thing_? Did you, like… bring it _with_ you?"

The captain crossed his arms tightly, biting his tongue, and managing to restrain himself with severe effort.

"Oh, um, yeah," Tenn said, "that's um… he's my, ah, servant. Yes, my servant." She said uncomfortably, mouthing the words _I'm sorry_ at Lard Nar.

"Ohhhhhh," The hologram replied with comprehension, "gotcha. Does it, like, understand us?"

Lard Nar was actively glowering now, muttering to himself.

"No, not at all," Tenn said, waving off the projection's concern, "too dumb. You know those inferior species."

The holographic Martian laughed, "Do I ever! One of 'em even tried to fly this thing! You should have seen it: this pink, fleshy creature with black spiky fur on its _huge_ head! I mean, it _did_ get it flying eventually, but I wasn't gonna help it!"

Tenn gave the most convincing fake laugh she could muster. "So, this planet's a spaceship."

"Duh," it replied, "you should know that, we're allies!" Its eyes grew wide and concerned suddenly, "We _are_ still allies, aren't we? I mean, it hasn't been _that_ long, right?"

Not wanting to cause the interface an existential crisis, Tenn tried to steer the conversation toward something else, "Oh yeah, of course we are. Big time allies, Irk and, um,"

Lard Nar mouthed _Mars_ at her.

"Mars!"

The hologram sighed, "Phew! I wouldn't wanna get on your bad side, no offense. We _really_ needed those relief supplies back home. Everybody got kinda spooked when you guys didn't like the test run we did here. Wasn't what you wanted, but I guess it all worked out in the end, right? Your people got their weapon and mine didn't starve!"

Tenn nodded agreeably, though inside she was sure she'd never felt more awkward. She was grateful the instruction manual wasn't able to interpret body language. "Can you, um, refresh my memory a little? What was the problem with the test run?"

"Misunderstanding, I guess," it explained. If the image had shoulders, it would have shrugged, "You all wanted a weapon that would instantly wipe out the higher lifeforms on a planet, so we built it! Drove this baby out, grabbed a moon, and hurled it right into the third planet from the sun! There used to be these _massive_ organisms down there, giant lizard-things. The strike wiped them right out, just like your people asked for! Problem was, it made the planet kinda… inhospitable. You guys never said anything about the planet needing to be habitable afterward."

"Of course, sure, I remember now." She said, beginning to see how things were connected. "Right, so we're just gonna collect some data, if you don't mind, and we'll be on our way."

"Nah, man, go right ahead. I'll be in sleep mode if you need anything."

Lard Nar had begun to unload their equipment, and so was understandably surprised when he felt a very sudden electric shock. He yelped loudly.

The instruction manual's face stared at him, looking deeply disappointed. "No. Bad servant! We don't touch our master's things without permission!"

"What the hell did you do that for?!" Tenn asked the Martian, running over to assist the still slightly dazed captain.

"He was touching your equipment without orders."

"You know what," she bit her tongue before she could say _your people never actually got those supplies we promised and they've been dead for millions of years. That planet you "destroyed" is called Earth now and its dominant species is sentient and thriving, in spite of its suicidal inclinations. You're a nasty, old xenophobe and you're going to die alone, so you can take your "higher intelligence" and shove it up your ass-shaped rock formation!_ Instead, she took a breath, "I order you to shut down, instruction manual."

It gave the impression of a shrug again, as if it could not understand having done any wrong, and blinked out of existence.

"It's an awful thing to say," Lard Nar began, "but I'm not sorry they're extinct."

"Neither am I," Tenn replied, "are you okay, Captain?"

"Fine, fine," He said, brushing himself off. "The sooner we get off this miserable rock, the better."

* * *

**Allusions & ** **References**

"civilization is two meals and 24 hours away from barbarism" is from Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett's _Good Omens._

There are tons of callbacks to "Battle of the Planets", but I'm lazy and don't feel like laying them all out.

The Martian rock Tenn is talking about is from the Hargraves Crater. See https://www.nasa.gov/image-feature/jpl/pia21609/colorful-impact-ejecta-from-hargraves-crater for reference.

**Notes**

The Martians killed the dinosaurs.

I wanted Dib to find his own identity and this is really where he starts to shine. He's a bit of a Captain Kirk and the Doctor in training (minus their amorous aspects). In the series, Dib was always very intelligent and observant, and usually strung together clear arguments he backed up with solid evidence, even though he was thoroughly ignored and dismissed by other humans. He's at a point where he doesn't crave approval from the outside (since he already has it), and he's learned from his mistakes as a child.

I'm a sucker for juxtaposition, so the gift-giving parallel was intentional.

As always, thank you for your love and support!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm truly sorry for the delay. Life (and death) happened. Between grief, work, the new (amazing) puppy, and everything else, it's been rough. Thanks for your patience and support. It means the world.
> 
> A huge shout-out and thanks to MagentaMauve, who beta'd this so many times we forgot what version of it we were looking at. Thank you so much for your critique and conversation!

**\- 24 -  
**

Red awoke grudgingly, as if he were being tugged toward consciousness by rope hitched to a very stubborn and slow-moving piece of construction equipment. He hazarded an attempt at opening his eyes, and just barely managed to discern the blurred digital numbers that told him if he hurried, he might still be able to catch the last of breakfast.

He didn't particularly care about this, but knew his partner certainly would. The aforementioned Irken beside him was dead to the world and showed no signs of waking. He was not conventionally beautiful in sleep, but that didn't stop the sight of it from making Red's chest feel uncomfortably full. It was unfair how good Purple made open-mouth snoring look.

Inwardly cursing his partner without any real rancor, he decided he could probably survive a trip to the cafeteria. It was the least he could do in return for all the trouble Purple had gone through on his behalf the night before. He managed to roll onto his back with great effort, swearing as he did so. His body informed him that it was still recovering from last night/this morning's exertions on top of his physical therapy, and it was not pleased with the idea of movement. Well, he could deal with either physical discomfort or a sore, exceptionally hungry (and therefore cranky) Purple.

He sighed and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He winced slightly as his thighs expressed their displeasure with his current course of action. Oh well. It was still preferable to the alternative.

* * *

Kaff had discovered that he could really only count on two things in the universe to hold true: he was usually late, and he always seemed to be the last person to receive news of any kind.

Virtually everyone on Malterra was aware of the noises that typically emerged from the room the former Tallests shared, either by rumor or unfortunate firsthand auditory experience. They were reasonable adults who understood mating, and while perhaps somewhat put-off by the sounds, they weren't terribly bothered. It was therefore obvious without explicit warning that they ought to stay away at night, and those who didn't simply shook their heads and quickly hurried away once they found themselves within earshot.

Unfortunately, this knowledge had somehow escaped Kaff, and he'd accidentally wandered down the wrong hall sometime after dinner the previous night. Unaccustomed to the sounds of pleasure and therefore unable to distinguish them from cries of oh, say, someone being murdered, he'd become quite concerned and more than a little distressed. Shloonktapooxis had found him flitting about in this state and gave him a sigh that would've been patronizing if it had come from anyone else. He had reached his straw-like appendage around Kaff's shoulder as best he could in a friendly gesture and explained, _"When two or more consenting creatures love each other very much and share the mutual desire to express that love physically,"_

The scientist had tensed, blanched, and began muttering " _Oh Irk, Irk, I can't know that!_ "

It was one thing to know they were intimate with each other; it was quite another to actually hear it happening. For Kaff, it was the closest thing he could possibly liken to the experience of accidentally listening in on one's parents.

As his luck would have it, Red had chosen this morning, of all days, to strike up a conversation with the poor, reeling scientist.

"Must've been a shock for you," Red remarked, sensing that something about Kaff was uncomfortable, "all this. It's a lot to process. How are you holding up?"

Kaff, of course, heard none of this. He'd noticed the blooming halo of bruises around Red's wrists, and curiosity gave way to a realization that made him blush furiously.

Red's lips quirked in confusion and slight concern, "Kaff? You all right?"

"Hrm? Uh, oh yes, yes, I'm adjusting, er-thank you; I-I hate to be rude, but if you'll excuse me, I was just about to get to work- patients to see and all that – it was nice talking to you!" He babbled, escaping the conversation with the grace of a drunken raccoon who'd eaten a gallon of coffee grinds.

Red frowned. He noticed for the first time Shloonktapooxis in his peripheral vision. "What's up with him?" Red asked, gesturing with a nod in the direction Kaff had fled.

"Nobody warned him to stay out of your hallway."

Red cringed. "How bad was it?"

"I give it four days before he can look either of you in the eyes." The other alien replied thoughtfully, "five, tops."

Red actually blushed. This novelty amused Shloonktapooxis.

"I never saw you get embarrassed when 'Nar complains about the noise."

"I'm not usually the one making it," Red spat. He realized his mistake almost immediately.

Shloonktapooxis's grin told him it was too late, "You've been tellin' Purple he's not that loud, haven't you?"

The tall Irken grumbled.

Shloonktapooxis laughed. "Man, he's gonna be pissed when he finds out!"

"You wouldn't dare," Red replied.

"Nah, man, you know me," The First Mate replied cheerfully, "but he'll figure it out sooner or later."

Red sighed. "I am going to grab some food, and then I'm going back to sleep, and neither of us will speak of this ever again."

"Right on, man! Have a nice nap!"

Red filled two takeaway containers and made a hasty retreat back to his room. He sighed, dropped the containers on the bedside table, shrugged his robe off his shoulders, and climbed back into bed. He wrapped his arms around Purple, who stirred slightly.

"There's breakfast if you want it," Red whispered, kissing the back of Purple's head.

Purple's half-conscious mind tried to decide whether it wanted food or sleep at the moment. "What'd you get?" He asked, the words thick and slightly slurred.

"Pancakes," he said, punctuating the word with another kiss, "bacon," kiss, "something with cinnamon."

Wakefulness seemed much more promising now that food was involved. He sat up slowly, groaning at the effort.

He opened one eye and shot his mate a half-accusatory, half-amused expression.

"Don't give me that look," Red replied, "this whole thing was your idea. I'm in the same condition you are, and I brought you food." He handed Purple a large container that was warm to the touch.

"Fair enough," Purple conceded, smiling deviously. "Can't say it wasn't worth it."

Red grinned conspiratorially, "It was, wasn't it?"

"Maybe the best we've ever had."

"You know, I was thinking the same thing."

"Stop smiling like that," Purple said, harshness absent from the words.

"Why?"

"Because you're here and you're naked. I have very little self-control, and I'm still too sore to do anything about it."

Red laughed, "Your food is getting cold."

Purple suddenly realized how hungry he was. "Okay. Food, then nap. Then, maybe if there's time, we'll have another go."

"I like the way you think," Red replied with a suggestive wink.

"You see," Purple said, mouth half full of syrupy pancake, "this is exactly why sexual prowess doesn't count for dates."

"We'd become sex-crazed hermits," Red agreed.

Purple laughed, desperately trying to keep his food in his mouth. "The word you're looking for is 'satyric'. And Yes," he said, swallowing, "that's precisely it."

Red nodded, "The neighbors might get worried after too long and some poor, unsuspecting soul would come by to check on us."

Purple looked thoughtful for a moment, "That's one way to get rid of shitty neighbors."

"Now you've got me hoping for shitty neighbors."

Hearing Red talk about the future conjured a tiny thrill in Purple without fail, and he couldn't help but grin in a fashion he could only assume was wide and stupid.

"I guess the alternative wouldn't be awful," Red mused, "might be nice to have helpful people around if something breaks. Irk knows, I don't own any power tools. And, I mean, if things ever changed for us somewhere down the line," he added with a noncommittal shrug, "it'd be good to have other families with kids around."

Purple's fork slipped from his hand halfway to his mouth, smearing the sheets with syrup and crumbs. "I, um, I thought you weren't interested in that," he replied, trying for casual and failing impressively.

"Not right now," Red replied quickly, "it'd be a long way off, but…" he shrugged, "I don't know. It might not be so bad. Might even be, well, kind of… nice. Under the right circumstances."

Purple was certain that he had to be dreaming.

"I mean, it might be a total disaster, too. A tiny version of us could be no end of trouble."

Purple laughed, "We weren't bad smeets, though."

Red raised a non-existent eyebrow.

"Okay, you were bad."

"Hey, you never had a problem breaking the rules."

"That's because I decided they didn't apply to me."

"Oh, is that how it works?"

Purple nodded, grinning, "Of course."

Red smiled, in spite of himself, "We're doomed." He said, without meaning it.

"It'd be the two of us against one. That gives us a fighting chance."

"Someday, I'll remind you of those words," Red replied in a tone that suggested he would do so with relish.

"I have no doubt you will, Red," He chewed, then swallowed another bite of food.

"Anyway, it's all just speculation right now. I'm not saying I've changed my mind, but I'm… open to considering it someday. I like the idea… I'm just not sure about the reality."

Purple considered this. In his idealized version of the future, nothing ever went wrong and everybody lived happily-ever-after. Their smeet never cried, threw tantrums, or sought out new and inventive ways of committing unintentional suicide in the way that infants of all species seem blessed with an endless capacity for. It would always listen and never break his rules, and it certainly wouldn't talk back or argue with him the way he and his partner had with their elders when they'd been smeets.

He cringed slightly. Red was right. They were doomed.

Red chuckled as he watched his partner come to this realization and shook his head with a playful sigh, "It's a good thing you've got me around to reign you in. I can only imagine what you'd have gotten yourself into if we'd never met."

Purple would have protested, but could hear his own petulant voice in his memory whining, _"But whyyyyy not, Red?"_

_"Because,"_ the red-eyed Irken lectured with the heavy sigh of one who has been through this exact situation on several occasions and is getting quite tired of it, _"they breed like crazy! They're going to get loose on the ship and before you know it, we'll have those 'bunnies' getting caught in the air filtration system."_

_"But they're so cute! Look how fluffy they are!"_ Purple pouted.

Red was unaffected by his mate's pleading, _"They're fluffy little_ monsters _. Nothing_ that _fluffy is innocent; I don't care what you say. They're probably carnivorous and the cuteness is an evolutionary adaptation to lure in prey."_

_"But Zim says,"_

_"You're going to trust Zim?"_

Purple paused in thought for a moment.

_"It'll be the Great Space Hamster Debacle all over again," Red reminded, "We had to evacuate the Massive and vent the atmosphere to stop them from gnawing through the wiring."_

Purple had the tendency to forget that he had not been gifted with much of an attention span, nor had he quite mastered the art of impulse-control. The only thing he'd been able to keep alive for any significant amount of time was Kali the betta fish, and she had outlived the rest of Purple's transitory obsessions likely because of the automated system kept her fed and cleaned her tank.

"The betta fish Zim sent us were fun," he said as a slow, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Red growled, "That wasn't a fish, it was a homicidal psychopath."

"It was your idea to make them fight," Purple sing-songed with a self-satisfied grin full of feigned innocence. "Poor Sirax the Destroyer was never able to live up to his name. Neither were those valiant others who met their demises in pursuit of vengeance. How many of them were there again, Red?"

"Sirax had every advantage!" Red bemoaned, irritated at his partner's zipper-toothed grin, "He was bigger, stronger, and he _should have_ put your puny little fish to shame! Female bettas aren't even supposed to be aggressive!"

"Don't disrespect Kali," Purple replied sweetly, "you saw the fight; you know Sirax never stood a chance."

"I tested him against ten other fish, and he beat them all! It's _unfathomable_!" This was still clearly a sore spot for Red. His fish had been huge and sleek and the perfect shade of red, and Red himself had watched with delight as it triumphed over the weaker bettas he'd sent into battle. Sirax had proved his mettle, and Red had been certain that a frilly, purple, delicate-looking fish like Kali would not be even remote competition for a warrior fish like Sirax. The poor bastard hadn't even lasted a whole minute.

"I'm convinced she would've eaten me, if given half the chance," he muttered.

Purple shrugged, "You _did_ try to kill her by proxy."

"Real nice, Pur. Side with the lunatic vertebrate," Red pouted.

Purple placed his container on the bedside table and kissed his mate's pouting lips, "You're impossible." He sighed, "At least you've learned your lesson."

"Have I?" Red asked curiously, "What lesson was that supposed to be?"

"I always win."

"Don't you just," Red grumbled, "I'll have you know I've been right twice so far."

Purple leaned his forehead against Red's and smiled, "Want to know a secret?"

"Sure," he replied, unable to resist the urge to smile back.

"You've been right about a lot more than that," he said. "You may not always win our arbitrary little games, but that doesn't make you wrong."

"I like to think I was right about you," Red replied, intertwining their antennae.

"Well that goes without saying," Purple teased.

Red exhaled, "Someday," he said, "when all of this is over, I'm going to wake up early and make you breakfast. I'm going to bring it to you just as you're waking up. You'll probably get food all over the sheets because you can't go a meal without spilling something on yourself, and I won't care at all. Then, I'm going to kiss you senseless."

"And then?" Purple asked with innocent eyes and a knowing smile.

Red kissed him chastely, "And then, I'm going to work on my decoupage."

Purple exploded with laughter, unintentionally breaking away and doubling over in fits so hard he trembled.

"I've got it all worked out," Red joked, "if we decide not to have smeets, I'll turn the office into a crafting room and run a little side business."

Purple imagined Red at a table, surrounded by paint, glue, and paper cutouts as he fussed over them and shooed Purple away. Though he didn't need them, Red was also wearing bifocals in this mental picture. It was too much, and Purple wondered if he might be the first person to actually die of laughter.

Red couldn't help but laugh along, and pounced on his defenseless mate, wrestling him into submission (given that Purple was still wracked by convulsive fits of laughter, this took more effort than Red had first thought).

Purple wiped at his eyes as his laughter slowly faded and he gasped for breath, "Just when I think I've got you all figured out..."

"Well, I've got to make sure I keep up with you."

"True. I do set the bar kind of high."

Red laughed, "You do. Until _I_ raise it."

"So you're turning my office into your crafting room, are you?"

"The guest room can double as an office," Red explained, "you can use that instead. I need space for my creative process."

Purple laughed again, "I think you managed to talk me out of and then back into wanting smeets within the same conversation. I guess we could always adopt Zim, should we feel the need to fill some paternal void in our futures."

Red looked horror-stricken, "Well, there goes any fatherly impulses I may have had."

"It's the sort of thought that makes you glad reproduction is a biological impossibility for us, isn't it?"

"Can you imagine?" Red asked, his face contorted as though he'd eaten something sour and offensive, "He'd probably pop out of the pillow asking if there was anything he could do for us."

Whether as a consequence of the time they'd spent together or their thorough knowledge of Zim, they both shared the same mental picture of the short, enthusiastic Irken emerging from their nicest, fluffiest pillow in an explosion of memory foam, beaming with joy enough to make them cringe and desperate for their approval.

"In that case," Purple replied, an evil grin spreading over his lips, "I'd tell him very precisely, in no uncertain terms, about about all the wonderfully lascivious things I plan to do to you. I bet _that_ would get rid of him fast."

"You've always been the one of us with a talent for words. The best I could do is a menacing glare."

"Oh, come on. Give yourself some credit. I'm sure you'd look thoroughly menacing. He might even pause for a moment and look uncomfortable. Then you could tell him you're not angry, just disappointed."

"He'd sulk off to his room and build some nonlethal but highly explosive weapon as an apology."

"That sounds about right," Purple replied, "he'd get so excited about it, he'd just have to show us, and he'd burst through the door at a really unfortunate moment."

Red cringed, "You're right; there's no disciplining Zim. You have permission to traumatize him with your… descriptions."

Purple chuckled, "You don't even know what 'lascivious' means, do you?"

"Not a clue," Red replied, grinning, "but I'm willing to learn. I thought you might teach me after we have that nap we talked about. I'm an active learner, you know."

"Good," Purple said, "it's a _hands-on_ lesson."

"You've got a filthy mind, my dear."

"Positively depraved. I wonder whose fault _that_ is."

"Oh please," Red replied, "you were never innocent. And I kind of love it."

"Kind of?"

Red shrugged, "Completely."

* * *

While she was not entirely comfortable with Dib's plan, she had to admit that it was not without its advantages. The Irken destroyer was too significant an asset to pass up, and the benefits did outweigh the risks. On this point, even Mimi agreed (a fact that had absolutely shocked Dib).

The human had managed to find a detailed list of operatives, past and present, that had been assigned to Tho's ship. Tak still required the survivors to submit to a Pak scan, which, while dangerous, risked only Mimi (who had backed up all her data beforehand, just in case). They couldn't be sure that the enemy Paks didn't have some kind of additional security or malicious software that might find its way into their ship's system. Mimi's processor was the fastest in existence, and Tak was confident she'd be able to quarantine anything that might try to hijack her. She kept Mimi in top condition and always up-to-date with the best parts she could find. Tak was not above using the black market to get what she needed, and had, in her career, acquired an impressively shady list of contacts. Some of the names she dropped visibly shocked Lulu.

The Azurian was dumbstruck by the fact that Tak hadn't yet ended up with a face full of laser, in a ditch on some backwater planet. _"Wait. Wait. You ain't talkin' 'bout K'lon the arms dealer, are you?"_

Tak shrugged, _"I guess he's an arms dealer. I mean, he only sold me some weapons components."_

_"Little blue-ish green fella? Six eyes but only five of 'em work?"_

_"Yeah! And he's got big, c-shaped scars all over his face? Weird spiny tattoos all over the back of his head?"_ Tak asked.

_"I… I don't believe this. How the hell'd you get to him?"_

_"I told his bodyguard what I needed and made him an offer. A bit of an asshole, but he was fair."_

Lulu laughed, _"Girl, I'd be impressed if what you done weren't so damn stupid. The Walbin Brothers, Six, the Fox, Rebar… you got any idea how fucked in the head those people are?"_

Tak frowned and recalled her experiences with each of the parties Lulu mentioned. The Walbin Brothers had been all business in their suits with their expensive wine and condescending smiles, but they'd been impressed with her hack of their casino, and they'd set her up with the cryo equipment she'd asked for in return for her repairs. Now that she thought about it, though, she probably should have been concerned by the number of weapons they'd had in the room and in retrospect, what she'd taken for praise at the start of the conversation may have actually been threats. She cringed. No, they hadn't appreciated her messing with their enterprise. She'd been so self-absorbed that she hadn't noticed how upset they'd been.

Six and the Fox were both quiet and fairly reserved, and she hadn't spent enough time with either of them to get any personal insights. She knew them by reputation, of course, but her contact with them had been limited to mutually beneficial trades.

Rebar, though… there was something terribly off about Rebar. He smiled too wide and his teeth were too sharp and his steel gray eyes always seemed to flicker with a strange sort of manic hunger. He was a shade of violet so dark it flirted with black, but not the normal sort of coal or obsidian she'd seen in hundreds of species – this was the blackness of the void. Just looking at him was unsettling. The mercenary-turned-bounty-hunter-turned-"independent business owner" (Tak used mental quotations around that last bit, as the business he'd started for himself sounded too close to slave-trading for comfort) ran something of an "independent prison" ship. He'd collect wanted fugitives (or just those for whom a substantial reward was offered) and keep them in holding until the authorities (or interested party) paid up. If they couldn't pay what Rebar wanted, he'd find someone else who would. She'd suspected he wasn't above kidnapping for ransom, either.

Rebar had enjoyed working with her, and now, she realized, perhaps more than she was comfortable with. Things had come to blows between them twice, but after the second time she'd metaphorically handed his ass to him, he'd actually seemed… pleased. She frequently caught him staring at her in an almost predatory fashion. And there had been that offhanded comment about her height making it so she wouldn't have to get on her knees… she hadn't understood it then, but in light of all the innuendos she'd been exposed to, could see no other way to interpret it, and was utterly appalled.

Lulu thought the female Irken looked as if she'd just drank a quart of sour milk, and knew better than to ask about it.

The only remaining concern was the dead "Powers-that-Be" as Dib had begun to call them (it seemed easier, especially since italics were impossible to see in conversation). That many deactivations couldn't go unnoticed, and Tak had to assume the PtB had some kind of independent system that monitored the whereabouts and life signs of their agents. But what other options did they have? Taking a Pak off of Irk's system was fundamentally different from bringing one online, and everyone agreed they couldn't risk tampering with enemy Paks. Dib was painfully familiar with standard Irken anti-theft systems; he was not eager to find out what more advanced security measures might do.

So, they went back to their original plan: piracy. They would stage a battle and Tho would record a "final message" for Irk to explain his crew's disappearance.

"Has anyone else noticed that our excuse is always space pirates?" Dib asked. "Are they really that common?"

"It gets worse with every planet that falls to the Empire," Lulu explained. "Folks gotta eat, ya know? Some get desperate. Some get mean."

They had stripped the tracking device off the cargo and, after making sure GIR did not ingest it as he'd been planning to, affixed it to an empty box inside spare escape pod programmed to follow the _Miyuki_ 's designated flight path. It would get to Irk on time, as it should have.

They had to hope that "deactivating" the surviving crew with NoPak software and a message from Tho would be convincing enough for Irk. The ex-general wasn't happy about allowing the fighters to fire on his ship, but he had agreed that there were no other options, and Tak had offered to repair whatever damage they caused. He'd instructed his surviving crew to _"make it look like you've had the shit beaten out of you, but don't break yourselves because we don't have a health plan anymore."_

All things considered, it had gone well, and hopefully, it would buy them the time they needed to carry out whatever the second phase of the captain's plan was. They'd thrown all the casualties into the nearest star; they couldn't risk leaving any evidence behind.

Tak had the _Dralal_ follow the _Miyuki_ to its specified rendezvous point, and her little team finally headed back to Malterra. Her probes had been surveying and scouting the orbital defense grid around the enemy base since prior to the start of their mission, and they'd find their way back to the ship as it passed.

Zim had been fully prepared to receive a verbal evisceration from Tak now that things had settled down, but to his amazement, all she had done was stare at himself and Lulu.

"You're both insane. You know that, right? Absolutely batshit insane."

They looked at each other, and then at Tak and nodded in mutual agreement.

"Just so long as you're both aware." And she turned back to her instruments, "Zim, set a course for Malterra."

"Erm, yes, right away, Tak!"

Something fast and metal struck Dib's head with surprising force, "Yee-hee-hee, Big Head Boy!" it squealed. "I made cheese-friends! They went BOOM!"

Dib struggled to pry the enthusiastic, affectionate robot from his head as GIR grabbed and tugged on his ear.

"What's this? What's this? Whatcha got on yer head?" He then gasped, "Is they wings? Can your big head fly?!"

Dib's efforts yielded no results and he slumped, exhausted in his chair. "Zim," he sighed, "could you?" he pointed at the robot on his face with a pleading expression.

Zim grinned that familiar, evil smile and Dib scrunched his face in annoyance.

"Hey, GIR," he said, and whispered conspiratorially (as best he could) to the SIR unit.

GIR gasped in excitement, gave a little squeal, and shook his head in vigorous affirmation. Zim's grin had twisted into an irritated frown.

"GIR! Do not conspire with that filthy beast! You will remove yourself from his massive head at once!"

GIR frowned, stroked Dib's cheek with an uncharacteristically loving metal claw, and disengaged himself from the human. Dib sighed thankfully and sent Tak a private message with the subject heading of: _our earlier conversatio_ n. It read:

_Tak,_

_Took your advice. Will have what you asked for when we get back. I'll be in the second floor lounge after the big meeting if you want to set it up._

_\- Dib_

* * *

It was mid-morning the following day when Tenn and the captain arrived back on Malterra, making them the first group to return. They had disembarked, exported all the data they'd collected and sent it off to the proper people who would know what to make of it, and managed to complete their mission reports by the time the group sent to collect Iris radioed in with their ETA.

Lard Nar thought it best to keep himself busy, and so decided to review what Red and Purple had come up with in his absence. Their plan would take some doing, but he'd be damned if it wasn't exactly what he'd hoped for.

He knew better than to call the former Tallests; Shloonktapooxis had already made it clear they likely intended to sleep as long as possible, since it was obvious they hadn't gotten a wink the previous night, if Lard Nar knew what he meant. This remark was accompanied by the suggestive raising of eyebrows, which made the captain cringe.

He began assembling a list of the ships and crew necessary to complete the mission, hoping that he'd have everything sorted out by the time Spleenk and his team arrived.

He wished he could've spoken with Spleenk when Skoodge had radioed in. He knew it would only have made their return trip longer, since they still hadn't gotten around to fixing the quantumspace communication issue, but that did nothing to ease his concern.

He didn't know what he was going say to Spleenk… what was there to say, really, about something like that? It wasn't okay and it most certainly never would be. It wasn't going to be over. It would always hurt. Well, then, he'd let Spleenk do the talking, if he needed to. Lard Nar would be there, but if Spleenk needed time alone, that was all right too.

He knew he couldn't fix Spleenk, but he was beginning to think that he could make him happy, and Lard Nar hoped that would be enough.

He exhaled as a small, sad smile graced his lips. This was _Spleenk,_ after all. Whatever the captain could give would always be enough.

* * *

He knew his first order of business was to welcome Iris and make sure she was settled in, regardless of how badly he wanted to talk with Spleenk. As soon as the four-armed alien stepped off the ship, it was clear that he was holding together, but not in the manner of one soldiering on resolutely despite hardship; it was more the look of someone who'd suffered a severe, undiagnosed concussion.

Spleenk offered a brief hello and a quick, somewhat forced smile (though there was something in that gesture that Lard Nar swore was genuine relief) before disappearing down the hallway. The captain greeted Skoodge, Buir, and Mei, and excused them all before addressing Iris.

She was reserved rather than baffled and overwhelmed as he'd expected. The retrieval team had done an excellent job briefing her on the situation and current status of their operations. She seemed to be taking it all rather well, though he suspected that Mei might have something to do with easing her culture shock. In this case, he couldn't bring himself to be bothered. The captain welcomed her professionally and introduced her to Shloonktapooxis, who did not lack for enthusiasm upon making her acquaintance. Lard

Nar noted with interest that his first mate seemed boundless in that regard.

"I thought you might want to read through some dossiers on the members of my command staff before we all meet to discuss our next course of action," Lard Nar explained, passing her a hand terminal, "so I had some put together for you. It should keep you busy until our other team returns. Shloonktapooxis will get you set up with a comlink, email account, and temporary quarters. Is there anything else I can do for you, Iris?"

"No, no thank you, Captain," she replied politely, "I'm fine. Just tired is all. I'd like to lie down for a while and familiarize myself with your staff. Things have changed quite a bit, and I ought to get myself up-to-date."

He nodded, "Good. Shloonktapooxis," he said, turning to the first mate, "take good care of her."

"Will do, sir!" He replied, saluting with his straw-antenna.

Lard Nar knew that the proper, captain-y thing to do would be to shut himself in his office until he'd read through mission reports and conducted the necessary debriefings.

Instead, he scheduled them for later in the day and made his way to Spleenk's quarters.

He knocked quietly, and in a soft voice said, "It's me… if you need time to yourself, it's okay. I just want you to know you can come find me when you're ready."

He waited outside for several minutes and finally, just as he was about to leave, heard Spleenk opening the door.

He looked listless and lost, like a sleepwalking insomniac. Lard Nar felt his heart break.

"Oh, Spleenk," he said, his voice filled with pain and compassion but not pity, as he took the other alien in his arms.

Spleenk said nothing, just stood there in his blank malaise for a few moments before he blinked several times, sighed, and returned the embrace. His head fell on the captain's shoulder and rested there comfortably. He closed his eyes and felt himself being rocked gently.

It was the oldest, most instinctive kind of comfort, he thought in the back of his mind. Every sentient species seemed to employ it. He'd heard a theory that it had to do with the throwing off the brain's spacial perception and distracting from pain. Others hypothesized that the movement released endorphins. Spleenk didn't give a shit. He clung to the captain tighter, and didn't notice he was trembling until his chest heaved in a series of short, hiccuping gasps.

Without letting go, Lard Nar carefully guided them the few steps it was to the inside of Spleenk's room and closed the door. Spleenk cried quietly on the captain's shoulder, possibly too exhausted for the intense, whole-body sort of sobbing Lard Nar expected. It was a strangely dignified sort of crying. It wasn't so much the reopening of a deep wound as the sudden pangs of an old soreness, like an injury flaring up with the weather. Merely an echo of the original, the sensation of scratching a scar, something muted through layers connective tissue that hadn't healed quite right, but had healed nonetheless.

"Shh…" he coaxed the other gently, knowing that the words to ease Spleenk's pain did not exist, "shhh, there, there," he said, "there you are."

* * *

The first few deactivations could have been anything; a freak accident, a hull breach, even a problem during external maintenance. It was unlikely, but such things had happened before and so were all within the realm on possibility. _Fifteen_ deactivations, on the other hand, presented a clear and significant issue that required immediate attention.

Tho's message was simple and to the point: _"the enemy lured us in with a disabled Voot and stormed the ship. We've taken heavy casualties and do not expect to survive. As per our detective, we sent the cargo off in an escape pod before they could get their hands on it. We will hold our ground and fight to the last of us; it should give the escape pod enough time to get out of enemy range."_

Gil clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white, and let out a long exhale. Of course Tho would pull something like this! Aiding a disabled vessel! Of all the pathetic, bleeding-heart bullshit in the universe! Gil knew he should have taken care of the former general as soon as Miyuki died. But there had been Spork to deal with, and the other one that killed itself right after the armor fitting. _That_ had really thrown a wrench in things. And just when they'd started to settle back down, Spork had to go and get himself killed! Spork was the right kind of Irken for the job, Gil lamented.

Then, he got stuck with Red and Purple. Just the thought of them made his stomach churn and his fist tighten all over again. They just _refused_ to see reason, blinded themselves to what he was trying to do for them. Purple had been a lost cause from the start, but Red… it made him furious. So much potential, and all of it wasted on that stupid partner.

He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

His people were spread too thin. The investigation in the Void was turning up nothing, and the escape pods from the missing Void Ship were proving hard to track down. Of the ones they'd recovered, few could tell them anything useful, and memory scans confirmed that there had indeed been an emergency evacuation.

He knew the number of pirates had been growing steadily, but was it possible he'd really been that unlucky? Gil didn't know what to think, except the one thing that kept nagging at him: someone on the inside was working against him. But who? And why?

* * *

The first thing Dib did when they arrived back at Malterra and disembarked was grab some spray-foam insulation and head straight for his bunk. He removed the ventilator grill and filled the empty space with the expanding yellow foam. Satisfied, he collapsed into bed and passed out near instantaneously.

GIR's attempt to eat through the solidified foam failed. Not because he couldn't do it, but it tasted rather like spoiled olives that had been pureed with a can of sardines slathered in rotten mayonnaise and left out in the hot summer sun for a minimum of eight days, then topped with burnt hair and used band-aids.

GIR could describe this taste so well because he had, in fact, tried such a concoction before.

The little metal robot at least had the courtesy to burst out of the air vent and into the hallway before he vomited.

* * *

Though she'd asked for the captain, Tak was greeted by Tenn instead. The pink-eyed female could see the other Irken tense, though she did her best to affect nonchalance.

"Captain's busy right now," She explained, "Spleenk looked like hell when he got back with Iris, so he sent me to check in with you. He'll meet with you himself in a couple of hours." She smiled as Tak relaxed and visibly brightened, "I heard things went better than expected."

She shrugged. "I'll know for sure once the diplomatic envoy sorts out Tho and his crew. Dib seems confident that they're on our side. The Pak scans checked out, and I had Mimi search their memory drives for anything unusual, but you never know."

"I think it's safe to say you won this time, Tak." Tenn replied with a cautious smile.

She sighed, "It feels too easy."

"Easy?" Tenn asked, "You had to change your entire plan and sabotage a Destroyer. You talked down a legendary Irken General _and_ recruited him, while securing your objective and taking out the enemy. Nothing about that mission was easy."

"Things… just don't happen like this for me," She said, looking almost vulnerable for half a second before she steeled herself. "Something's got to be wrong. Did you see the ship's manifest?"

Tenn nodded, but to satisfy Tak, she removed her hand terminal from her pocket and skimmed the information again. "You got everything," she said.

"Yes," Tak replied worriedly, "but the shipment is only _half_ the size it was supposed to be."

Tenn shrugged, pursing her lips together and curling the right side of her mouth in thought, "I mean, there was supposed to be more, yes, but there was also supposed to be a cargo ship, too. Maybe they had to change plans. Maybe what happened in the Void has them being careful."

"That's what I'm concerned about." She frowned, "I left a probe out there, just in case there's something I missed."

"You did the job, Tak. And you did it against impossible odds. I can't wait to see the Captain's face when he reads the full text of your mission report."

The mental picture got a small laugh out of Tak, "That gaping, bug-eyed stare where he looks at you with confused desperation, awe, and concern?"

Tenn nodded, smiling, "That's the one."

"So, how was it working with Zim?" She asked tentatively. She was aware of the bitterness between them, but curiosity got the better of her (especially after seeing the state in which he'd left Mars).

Tak exhaled, but did not feel the hot spike of rage in the back of her skull that she'd come to associate with her sort-of-former enemy, "It was… interesting." She said, "Not awful. I'll admit he was useful. He hasn't grown on me at all, but I feel less... inclined to inflict a slow and painful death on him."

"Well, that's something." Tenn replied encouragingly.

* * *

Lulu found Kaff waiting for her outside the docking bay. She was a little surprised to see him there, but wasn't as off-put as she thought she'd be.

"I don't mean to be a bother; I'm sure you want some time to yourself right now, to relax and shower and whatnot, but I figured it might be hard to do that if you couldn't get into your room," he explained, holding out the room key she'd given him the previous day.

She took it gratefully, "Forgot I even gave it to ya," she replied.

They chatted about her mission as they walked toward the temporary living quarters, and she asked what he'd gotten up to since she'd been gone.

"I've been helping out with the medical staff," he said. "You know, I was going through the medicine cabinet and found all sorts of stuff that'd be worth a ton if we could find the right people."

Lulu responded with a shocked, horrified expression.

Kaff managed to hold it together for only a moment before he burst out laughing, "I'm kidding!" He explained, "Before you left, you said I'd end up some kind of drug king by the time you got back."

Lulu shook her head, smiling in spite of herself. He'd probably been so excited when he thought of the idea, and she'd have bet he even practiced delivering the joke in front of the mirror or something. In truth, he had. Several times.

"Ain't you clever," she replied.

He beamed at her approbation, and she could have sworn she saw him blush. It took so little to please him, she thought. The very smallest things seemed to make him happy.

She suspected he must have been the "odd one out" among his former co-workers, always trying to make them laugh with bad science puns or complimenting their new lab coats, and only ever receiving blank stares or suggestions that he have his Pak scanned in reply.

"I washed your sheets," Kaff told her, "and you had some stuff on the floor, so I folded it up and left it on top of your bag; I didn't want to go opening drawers or anything. I hope that's not weird. I'm… not so good with etiquette."

Lulu could not remember the last time she'd washed her own sheets on Tauron. Her general rule was that when they started to smell, she'd spray them with a disinfecting odor-neutralizer, and get around to cleaning them eventually. It wasn't that she had an issue with the washing process; that was easy. It was the fitted sheet that got her. She had no idea why it was so difficult to discern which end was supposed to go longways on the mattress, but she failed every time.

"You didn't have to do all that," she replied, "you're too damn nice for your own good, Sunbeam."

He shrugged, "It's not like I washed _everybody's_ sheets. You let me stay in your room, so it was the least I could do. I wouldn't want to come back from a stressful mission and find a mess. Who wants to take a shower and lie in a bed that smells like somebody else?"

She took in the genuine earnestness of his expression and felt a wave of concerned sympathy. The universe would chew him up and spit him out someday, no doubt about that.

"You're a bad Irken, ya know that, Sunbeam?"

"What?"

"Relax," she explained, "it's a compliment."

* * *

"If you haven't read your Intel briefing, don't tell me." The captain said, calling the meeting to order. "I thought it best to start by introducing everyone to Dr. Iris, who is here to help us fill in some blanks. She's read up on all of you, so we don't need to bother with icebreakers."

"Shucks," Shloonktapooxis replied, genuinely disappointed. "I had my two truths and a lie all ready to go."

Paying him no mind, the captain gestured to Iris, "Anything you can help us with?"

"I…" she trailed off, "never intended it to be used like this. The Pak, I mean. I didn't even want to take it public, but things like that have a way of getting out." It sounded like an apology. She sighed, "Anyway, the Irken behind all this. Gil. He was a soldier once. Quite good. Stayed behind so his people could escape and was taken prisoner. I managed to get my hands on his debriefing, and they put him through some just… appalling things during his time as a captive."

"Which I'm sure he put to good use on us," Red muttered venomously.

She stared straight into Red's eyes and her own were cold enough to make him shiver. "If you think I have any sympathy for the man who murdered my son, you're mistaken."

The icy silence melted after a moment, and she continued, "There wasn't much of his mind left by the time Irk got him back and somebody somewhere thought the Pak was the answer." She sighed, frustration clearly present in the sound, "Except nobody asked _me_ what would happen if you played around with neurotransmitters and brain chemistry, or blocked access to memory neurons in an unstable brain." She shook her head.

"They thought they could make him a blank slate. Fed him a narrative in regular therapy until he believed he'd been in some kind of accident. Set him down on a nice little planet far away, where he was supposed to quietly live out the rest of his life."

"Boy, did _that_ ever backfire!"

Try as she might, Iris could not bring herself to chastise the conical first mate. There was something about his constantly grinning face and enthusiastic outbursts that made him more entertaining than annoying. She couldn't say for sure.

"Yes, quite," Iris replied. "He ran into one of his former squad mates at a bar. Triggered his PTSD, which, thanks to the Pak, turned into a psychotic break. Ended up killing his pregnant girlfriend."

It felt like puzzle pieces that had been facedown were being flipped over in Spleenk's mind. Now that he could see the picture, he could rotate the shape and look for empty spaces that might complement its edges.

"You'd think they would have let him rot in jail, but his friend got in touch with the medical team that treated him the first time. Threatened to publicly expose what they'd done if they refused to help him again. Lucky for him, the project lead was an amoral half-wit fascinated by what had happened, and he jumped at the chance to investigate. That's the problem with us," she explained, "scientists. You start thinking 'if science is all about truth, and truth is never bad, then science itself can't ever be bad. Sure, bad people might use it to do bad things, but _I'm_ not a bad person. _Knowledge_ and _science_ are the greatest, most noble pursuits there are.'"

Dib could imagine that with the exception of the scathing tone, her words might have come from his own father's mouth. He was sure they had, at one point or another. Likely followed by a lament over his 'poor, insane son'.

"Just because you _can_ do something doesn't mean you _should_." She sighed, "I... learned that one the hard way. I couldn't find anything on what happened to him under the project's care, but whatever it was, it made him into Gil."

"Nothing at all?" Tak asked, disappointed, "So much for motive."

"He thinks he's helping," Spleenk said.

Everyone's focus snapped in his direction.

"Tenn, the one you ran into on Vort said _They_ were working toward a 'common good', right? I think they really believe that."

"I'm sorry, but that kind of thinking requires the sort of metal gymnastics that would snap graphine," Red remarked, frowning. "I can understand how one or two sick people might be convinced, but I just don't see how it happens on such a large scale."

"It's not as outrageous as you think," Dib replied. "It's happened on Earth. I mean, it's _still_ happening on Earth. The problem is that it starts out small. Nobody wants to see all the threads that weave a big problem together; all people care about is the shape of it, and resent it for taking up space or resources they think they deserve. Then someone comes along and says, 'hey guys, I see this big problem too, and you know what? It's all because of this group or that one'. Nothing brings people together like mutual fears and a common enemy."

"Think about it from his perspective," Spleenk elaborated. "There's no grief on Irk. Irkens don't get sick. They rarely die, and when they do, nobody mourns because nobody has any emotional ties. Without love or family, you have no rejection, no heartbreak, and no sad memories. There's no real competition because everyone has a job they're tailor-made for. It's the picture of stability.

"The trouble is, biology finds a way. It's stubborn like that. It adapts. _They're_ trying to create stability in a universe where entropy is a constant. It's impossible, but they're still trying. The Irken system, the Empire… all of it has been the process of solving for x. _They_ tried to start from scratch with Irk after it burned, and maybe it even worked for a while. _They_ stood on the sidelines and watched their new Irken society grow, until anomalies started showing up."

"It's the drones who seem to question that system more often than not," Purple mused, "them, and defects like Red and I."

"Maybe life experience triggers it in the drones," Kaff thought aloud, "but maybe taller Irkens are predisposed."

"How ya figure that?" Lulu asked.

"Well, during sexual maturation, and this goes for every species, not just Irkens, the brain is a giant mess of hormones. Everything's off balance. Moodiness, behavioral changes, extreme emotional shifts,"

"Intense pouting and a predisposition for black trenchcoats?" Zim interrupted with a teasing grin directed at Dib.

"Oh for the love of," Dib sighed and shrugged out of his jacket, "my mom bought me that coat, Zim."

Zim rubbed the back of his head with awkward nervousness. "Eh heh, whoops… wait, didn't you grow out of that one a while ago?"

Dib looked even unhappier, "Yeah. The only thing I have from the mother who abandoned me is a sad imitation, and the original was probably a lie my dad made up so I'd think she at least tried to love me in spite of what I am. Thanks for the reminder, Zim."

Nope, there was no saving this now. Zim had dug himself far too deep a hole this time. It was the Mariana's Trench of holes, a cavern so deep he thought he might just be able to see Hell a few feet beneath him.

"In spite of what you are?" Skoodge asked curiously.

The question blindsided Dib as if GIR had backhanded him with a brick.

"A mistake!" Zim exclaimed in answer, "The Dib-child's existence is the consequence of accidental, _disgusting_ , human fluid-exchange."

Dib was both exceedingly grossed-out by Zim's diction and shocked that the unnerving Irken had come to his social rescue. He was even more startled because it was obvious (to him, at least), that Zim knew he was lying.

"I wouldn't have used those words, Zim," Dib replied, recovering, "because, ew. But, yeah. That's the gist of it. How… um, how'd you know that, Zim?"

"Zim knows _all kinds of things_ about you, Worm Baby!" Zim responded, with more eagerness than was really comforting.

"Still creepy, Zim." Purple commented, "still so very, _very_ creepy."

"The creepiest!" He replied, as though this were some sort of compliment.

"So, Kaff," Red interrupted, pointedly ignoring them, "you were saying?"

"Oh, yes… right. Um, well, this is just speculation, of course, but it's possible that things like sudden growth spurts may provoke instability in the Pak. Maybe it thinks it's working just fine because it's blocking what it should in an average-sized Irken, but… maybe it's not getting everything. You can't give a tall Irken the same amount of sedative you'd give a short one; it wouldn't be enough. Maybe it's like that."

"That would explain Tho and his crew," Tak mused.

Zim thought back to something that hadn't occurred to him since he'd left Earth. "So maybe the Great Measuring isn't really about height at all," he suggested. "Like you said," he nodded toward Red meaningfully, " _They_ want to get rid of their most prominent threat. Maybe it's just a little different than we thought."

"That's got to be how they recruit." Spleenk thought aloud, "They look for taller, vulnerable Irkens who need something to believe in because they see the flaws in the system. Take advantage of it and give them a cause."

"But why all the brutality?" Tenn asked. "I know angry mobs don't exactly have a history of not erupting in violence, but this is different… it's not tension boiling into blind rage. It's… calculated."

"It's a tool," Red replied, "A means of control."

Spleenk frowned, "Yes, to some degree… but if it's just about control, why would they get so, well, for lack of a better word, creative with it?"

Dib thought Gil sounded like the worst possible combination of Darwin, Hitler, and Ezra Pound. He had succeeded in weeding out every single vulnerability an Irken could have, yet actively chose not to eliminate physical pain, and then he exploited that weakness. "Maybe it's some kind of metric…?" He tried.

"You mean like weeding out the unworthy?" Skoodge asked.

"Exactly," Spleenk said, "make them suffer so much pain, they either stop feeling it or die. If you can't be hurt, you're indestructible. Pain was never punishment… whenever one of you broke the rules," he directed his glace at Red and Purple, "they hurt the _other_. I think, I mean, I could be wrong here, but it's starting to look like he wanted you to know how vulnerable you both were. They weren't causing you pain; it was the emotional connection you had with each other. Once you saw that, once you realized that love was really pain, you'd see how useless it was. How no species ruled by emotion could be trusted because no war in history has ever been fought because it was logical."

Dib suddenly understood as a quote floated to the surface of his memory, "'And even if wars didn't keep coming like glaciers, there would still be plain old death.'"

"What?" Zim asked.

"Looks like _somebody_ didn't do their English homework." Dib replied in a mockingly disappointed tone.

"Zim scoffs at your smelly, human literature!"

"Yeah, because Irken literature is so much better – oh wait, there _is no Irken literature_."

The Irken opened his mouth, but closed it after finding nothing he could possibly say to rebut the human.

"But, anyway," Spleenk continued, "you're right, Dib. Or whoever you're quoting is right. The only way to eliminate pain is to eliminate emotion. Gil believes he can do that with the Pak."

"But he's slaughtering billions of innocent people!" Skoodge replied.

"Not the way he sees it. In his mind, he's removing billions of threats. Protecting them from themselves and the rest of the unstable universe. He wants to create a world governed by logic where no one suffers. And it's an easy sell because it looks great on paper. Tell me any one of you Irkens wouldn't have jumped on that bandwagon before we removed your receptors."

Zim raised his hand.

Dib rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Zim would have required a guarantee of eternal praise, a leadership position, a planetary holiday in my honor, and at _least_ some minor groveling before committing myself."

Red and Purple both laughed.

"You forgot the statue," Dib added, unable to keep himself from chuckling along.

"Ah yes, and a statue of acceptable height." Zim agreed.

"By 'acceptable height' you mean 1200 feet," Red replied.

"Or better yet," Purple said, "sculpt a moon into the shape of a boot and carve 'ZIM' into the sole,"

"So everyone would tremble at Zim's mighty boot of DOOM!" Zim interjected, bellowing in a mockery of the triumphant voice he was famous for.

"YAY DOOM!"

"GIR! How did you even get in here?!"

"I don't knooooow!"

"Well, get out!"

"Okey dokey!"

The teal-eyed robot just stood there humming and swaying excitedly in his own approximation of patience.

Zim sighed wearily, "GIR, your master commands you to go!"

The robot gave no indication that he'd heard Zim at all, and plopped down on the floor. He reached into his head and pulled out a plastic toy shaped like a taco. "Choo-choo! Taco train, taco train, choo-choo!"

Zim was gritting his teeth in frustration. "GIR!"

He looked up, as if noticing the group gathered around the table for the first time. His eyes welled with delight as he sprang into the air, "NEW FRIENDS!"

The enthusiasm in the robot's voice made everyone uneasy.

"No, GIR!" Zim protested in mounting horror.

Purple leaned over and whispered to his mate, "Remember when I said the two of us would have a fighting chance against that hypothetical, nonexistent child we talked about this morning?"

"I do," Red said, nodding.

"I take it back."

In a fraction of a second, everyone gathered around the table found a party hat on his or her head, and GIR was eagerly waving a ten-pound salmon in the air.

Zim sputtered as he tried to wrangle the robot, who slapped him across the face with the salmon. "You _horrible_ robot!" He shouted, wiping at his slimy cheek and gagging at the smell. It made him lightheaded. Zim was afraid to ask how long it had been in GIR's head.

"Aw, lookit, Master! He wants a kiss!" said GIR, shoving the fish's puckered lips toward Zim's.

He couldn't say for sure if it was the smell of the fish (which was decidedly not the catch of the day), the wide, dead-eyed face moving toward his own in horrifying slow motion, or a combination thereof, but Zim swatted the salmon away and sprinted out of the room toward the nearest trashcan where he proceeded to vomit. GIR was unfazed, and snapped the elastic of a party hat under the fish's chin (or what everyone gathered assumed would be the chin, if fish possessed such features) so it would not feel left out.

"It's okay, Leonard!" GIR consoled the dead salmon before turning to the bewildered crew, "Who wants to be friends with Mr. Bast?!" He exclaimed.

"GIR!" Zim bellowed sternly, wiping his mouth clean with visible agitation, "The party is _over_!"

"Okay!" He replied, collecting everyone's party hats as quickly as he'd distributed them, snatching up the salmon, and bolting out of the room.

Zim dragged himself back to his chair and collapsed into it looking haggard and despondent for a moment.

"Ugh, Zim, you smell like rotten fish!" Dib cringed, then sniffed curiously, "Is that… _salmon_?"

"Probably," The Irken replied, massaging his temples.

"At least you've gotten over your germophobia."

"After surviving on your poisoned planet for three years, there is no Earth-germ that can defeat Zim's mighty immune system, no matter how vile!"

"MRSA would like a word with you." Dib mumbled to himself. "Hey, you know something, Zim?"

"What, Dib-Monkey?" He replied, exasperated.

"The most destructive thing you might've done on Earth was use all that disinfectant. You probably bred new strains of antibiotic-resistant bacteria."

"A microscopic victory for Zim!"

"Anyway, speaking of sickness," The captain interrupted, "will the shipment recovered by Tak's team be enough for you to start working toward a cure, Kaff? I know it was less than we expected."

"Oh, yes, more than enough, I think. Quite honestly, I'm glad there was less of it. That stuff scares me. I've been working with the data from my memory drive when I haven't been helping out with patients, and I've got some ideas I'm ready to test."  
Lulu looked concerned, "Should _you_ be doin' the testin'? I mean, you're Irken. That stuff could kill ya. Then we'd have nobody to come up with a cure."

"I appreciate the concern, really, but I'll be fine… unless, of course, I'm _not_ fine, in which case, I'll probably be dead, but that won't happen!"

"'Nar, can ya get him an assistant, please? Sunbeam here is a little accident-prone."

"You read my mind, Lu. I'll have one of our virologists help out with this. I know you're capable, Kaff, but we can't take that kind of a risk."

"Gil's pedaling that as a 'growth hormone', right?" Iris asked, her head finally beginning to slow its spinning. Part of her was still stuck on the fish, so she was glad that another part of her mind had kept abreast of new conversational developments.

"Yes. We think he's planning to start a panic and herd everyone into 'safe zones',"

She nodded, picking up where the captain left off, "Which he'll destroy with giant cannons built into a bunch of moons in order to save everybody from themselves by killing them and eliminating free will. Gotcha."

"…Okay, I'm sorry, but this guy is _NUTS_!"

"As always, Shloonktapooxis, you've got a way with words." Purple said.

Skoodge turned a thoughtful face toward Iris. "In the video message," Skoodge searched his memory for her late husband's name. The whole experience was strangely hazy as he recollected it, which he found disconcerting, "...it said he'd found what you were looking for."

Iris sighed, "That won't do us any good."

"Are you sure?" He asked as gently as he could.

"Is genocide is an option?" She replied bluntly.

The captain's eyes bulged, "Absolutely _not_!"

"Then sending a deactivation override command to every Pak in the universe is a no-go."

Purple felt something click into place in his mind and he started. " _If you want to win, you both shall die_ ," echoed in his mind and he turned his focus toward Mei. Her gaze snapped toward him at exactly the same time. They held each other's stare for a moment and she gave a slow nod in agreement.

She'd been right. The only surefire, foolproof road to victory was eliminating the entire Irken race, and that would leave the planet and all its technology open for scavengers to pick clean. There would be no guarantees that another species would not adapt the Pak to its own physiology, and Purple knew better than to imagine that all of Irk's weaponry would be politely left to rust.

"Well you can forget about that." Lard Nar said decisively, interrupting Purple's thoughts, "It's not an option. Ever."

"I plan to continue studying what the Pak has become," Iris explained, "to see if we can use it to our advantage. It doesn't look much different, as you can see." She shrugged hers from her back and casually handed it off to Tenn, who looked at her with wide, horrified eyes.

She glanced around the table and realized she was the recipient of shocked expressions ranging from morbid curiosity to active terror. One of the Irkens… Zim, she remembered from her file, had gasped. Buckets of sweat poured down his ashen face and he was frantically biting his nails.

The pinkish creature beside him slapped Zim's arm before wiping his own. "That's _gross_ , Zim!" Dib exclaimed as wet nail clippings flew in his direction. "It's getting all over me!"

"Yes, please, let's keep all bodily fluids to ourselves, all right?" The captain asked. He shot Red a look that dared him to make a comment.

Red closed his mouth and instead leaned toward Purple and whispered something inaudible, which still induced an eye-roll from Lard Nar.

Purple just shrugged, half turning to his mate without real interest, "Pity. I do _so love_ making you squirm."

Tenn chuckled, "I'll say. You must be merciless."

Both former Tallests looked at the smaller, female, pink-eyed Irken with surprise and confusion.

Suddenly awkward, she realized that somehow, neither of them had noticed the glaringly obvious ring of bruises around both Red's wrists. She stammered, trying to gesture as subtly as she could for Red to pull his sleeve down.

Spleenk understood immediately, and clamped two hands over his mouth, making a valiant attempt not to laugh. It wasn't working very well.

Neither Red nor Purple seemed to understand yet, and stared with blank confusion at the giggling, four-armed alien.

"Um, did we miss,"

"She's talkin' 'bout those bruises you musta got from the handcuffs last night!" Shloonktapooxis interjected helpfully, in his usual enthusiastic tone.

Spleenk's efforts failed and he burst into laughter.

Purple wondered how he'd missed something that had been so blatant to even Shloonktapooxis in an effort to ignore the embarrassment he felt creeping into his subconscious.

He buried his hot, flushed face in his hands and sank in his chair, as if trying to will himself into nonexistence.

Red managed an awkward chuckle and tugged his sleeve down, futile though it was, to hide the marks.

"You know, I always thought it would be the other way around," Tak mused aloud.

"Told you," Red remarked to his partner through a toothy grin, his temporary discomfort short-lived.

Purple rolled his eyes, "Oh yes, I'm _so glad_ we've got that sorted out. Because I really, truly cared about our friends and colleagues keeping our individual fetishes straight."

"I wouldn't call it a _fetish_ ," Red replied.

The violet-eyed Irken exhaled, "Whatever." He let himself look at Red's wrists for the first time and his eyes went wide as he reached for Red's forearm, "Shit, Red! What did you do to yourself?!"

Red sighed and let his arm go limp, allowing Purple to examine it. The bruises were worse on the outside of both wrists. They were obviously healing, but were a deep enough shade of green in some places as to have probably been almost black at one point.

"Either of you ever hear of havin' a safe word?" Lulu asked, only half joking.

"Why didn't you tell me to stop?" Purple asked, visibly upset.

"Um, because I didn't want you to. Everything else you were doing felt so good I didn't notice. Or did you miss that?"

"Nobody could've missed that," Kaff shuddered. "I thought you were dying."

" _La petite mort_ ," Dib chuckled to himself.

"What?" Zim asked, confusion cracking his uncomfortable cringe.

Well, Zim had asked. "It's French for 'orgasm'. Means 'the little death'."

Dib grinned, watching Zim's left eye twitch and his face scrunch in disgust as he stuck his tongue out and gagged, as though he might vomit a second time. It was a small victory, but hey, you had to take what you could get.

"You couldn't even behave yourselves for Iris," The captain said, shaking his head. "I can't take you two anywhere."

"Aw, come on, mom! She started it!" Red whined, pointing at Tenn as he mentally considered instructing his nonexistent, hypothetical children to call the Vortian "grandma".

"I am not your mother, and I don't care who started it. I'm _ending_ it," he replied, crossing his arms.

Perhaps "auntie" would be more Lard Nar's style.

"Uh oh," Purple said, "what now?"

"Hmm?"

"You're doing it again. That look."

Red sighed, leaning close to Purple's head, "Do you think he's more of an 'auntie' or 'grandma'?"

Purple gave a light, thrilling laugh that contained more joy than it ought to and smiled conspiratorially as he whispered back, "Definitely 'auntie'."

"Iris, you were talking about your Pak," Lard Nar said, addressing the Irken who'd watched all this transpire with a degree of interest and amusement. To his surprise, she'd actually cracked a smile.

"Yes, of course. As you can see, mine's auxiliary. It's just support; I don't need it to survive. Go ahead, pass it around."

Tenn could took the device and held it with the same sort of care one would reserve for a newborn or some rare and ancient tome that might turn to dust if jostled. It was far less sleek than her own Pak, but structurally similar. It made her uncomfortable to hold for very long, and she passed it on quickly.

Zim knew better than to let himself even touch Iris's Pak. He could feel his fingers itching to poke and prod, his mind burning with curiosity at what might be inside, and could all too well imagine _somehow_ setting it on fire.

"Ideally, I would like to create some kind of disruptor. I'm not sure that's even possible, but it's worth looking into."

"You'll have whatever you need at your disposal, Iris," Lard Nar replied. "Now, before was can consider going on the offensive, we need to make sure we get rid of Irk's remaining bioweapons. Red and Purple have put together a plan that should take care of it," He glanced at the former Tallests, "Care to explain?"

"The recon data Tak collected for us confirmed our theories about the security measures in place," Red began. "They're using a standard Orbital Defense Grid, so that means a really powerful cannon capable of obliterating a generous-sized asteroid," He used his new laser pointer to indicate the diagram he'd sent to the holographic display in the center of the table.

Dib recognized the laser as the one he'd given to Purple. Smiling, he glanced over at Purple and gave him a nod. Purple returned the gesture with a thankful grin.

"The cannon itself has no network; it's automatic, and receives instructions from a maintenance bot that communicates with the surface. Our plan is to get into the maintenance bot, and activate Security Protocol 1," Red finished.

"Basically," Purple simplified, "we're hacking the bot that tells the giant cannon what to do. We're going to make it blow up the base."

"But how do you know the protocol will do the same thing it did on Vort?" Tenn asked.

"We don't," Purple replied, "which is why we, and by 'we' I mean 'Red, Sally, and the programming engineers', have been writing their own version." Purple explained.

"We're trying to mirror the language and semantic structure as closely as we can. We want Them to think they're dealing with a disloyal faction. They don't know anyone survived Vort, so who else would be able to use their own system against them?" Red added.

"What he means is that we're trying to make our code look like their code, so nobody gets suspicious," Purple translated.

"Was what I said really that confusing?" Red asked his partner.

"For someone who constantly refers to anything non-technical as 'the thing that does stuff', you're weirdly specific with jargon."

"Jargon?"

Purple sighed, "That's exactly what I mean."

Red rolled his eyes, "There's not enough room in this relationship for both of us to be walking… whatever you call them… it's got all the words in it..."

"Dictionary?"

"Sure, why not. That sounds right."

"You're impossible, you know that?"

"You frequently remind me."

Purple exhaled, "It means 'specialized language'. Also, aptly enough for you, 'gibberish'."

"What does?"

"Jargon."

"Cool."

Purple stared hopelessly at his partner, "You've already forgotten it, haven't you?"

"Oh, absolutely," Red replied.

"You're hopeless."

"Not true," he said, "I learned 'lascivious' just fine."

Purple shook his head but couldn't fight the urge to smile, "Fair enough."

"We hack the maintenance bot," Lard Nar interrupted, redirecting the conversation with visible effort, "then what?"

"Then, if all goes to plan, the defense cannon will annihilate the facility, and all we have to do is watch," Purple explained.

"Trouble is," Red added, "there are 31 targets, so it's going to take some effort to make it work. Dib, if you could run coms for this mission, I'd really appreciate it."

The human nodded in agreement. "No problem!"

"Good. I'd like to have a specialist and someone we trust on every ship we send in case something goes wrong, and to make sure everyone follows directions," Red continued.

"I'm not risking a repeat of what almost happened on Vort. Since we have so many targets and a very limited window of time, we don't get to be very picky about who we send.

With that in mind, I'd like Tenn and Tak to supervise on board the _Icarus_."

"Lulu, you ought to go with them, too." Lard Nar added, "Wilelel can be a prima donna and he won't like taking orders from Irkens. He's the one who had the bright idea to land too close to the prison on Vort when we specifically ordered him _not to_."

"You want me to put him in his place, Cap'n?" Lulu asked, though her expression suggested she already knew and was pleased with the answer.

"I have no doubt Tenn and Tak can do that just fine." He replied, "But if you show up with them, he'll know he's in deep shit."

"My reputation precedes me, eh?"

"No, that's just the automatic weapons fire."

Lulu laughed, "What's the expression? Speak softly and carry a big stick?"

"In your case, Lu, that stick is dynamite."

"And I quote," she said, "'make 'em think there are 400 of us instead of 40'."

"Yeah, I said 400, not _4,000_."

Lulu shrugged, "It worked, didn't it?"

The captain sighed, "Yes, Lulu. It did."

"So whatcha complainin' about?"

"Wasn't complaining." He grinned.

Zim raised his hand, but spoke before anyone called on him. Old habits died hard. "Zim thinks it would be best if he sat this one out. My enthusiasm, while an indispensable resource, may, um… be problematic."

"Nothing wrong with knowing your strong suit," The captain replied. "You're excused, Zim.

The Irken nodded. It was for the best, really. And, it would give him time to assemble that goo-gun idea he'd been kicking around in his mind since they'd run into the _Miyuki_.

Oh, the Dib-Stink wouldn't know what hit him! Well, he would once Zim explained it, but before that, oh, he'd be surprised!

"Iris and Kaff should stay here on Malterra." Red continued, "Skoodge, you ought to sit in with the _Frustra_."

"Shloonktapooxis should go with him. The crew is solid but they've got a new captain, and this isn't the sort of mission she should use for a trial run."

"What happened to the old one?"

"Varhat couldn't handle the… freedoms that came with being a captain. Specifically, the Extranet freedoms."

"Well, they say that's what the Extranet is for, don't they?" Shloonktapooxis replied jovially.

Dib was hopelessly confused, "I'm sorry… what?"

"His species…" Lard Nar began, then sighed, "how can I put this…"

"Consumes about 90 percent of the universe's pornography!" Shloonktapooxis finished, handling the delicate and somewhat awkward topic with the finesse of a particularly difficult tooth extraction.

"Consumes... as in _reads_ or _ingests_?" Dib asked, trailing into strained discomfort, "No, you know what, I take it back. I don't want to know. Forget I even asked."

"Everyone else I trust enough to follow orders. If we pull this off," Lar Nar said, "we'll finally have the upper hand. They'll be scrambling, and we'll be able to strike."

The captain's words had a sobering effect on the room as reality set in. This was, essentially, it. No matter how the mission went, they wouldn't be able to hide much longer. One way or another, they'd be out in the open. The generals they'd be facing henceforth would not be amenable to reason the way Tho had. Mei could fool a security system or a ship full of aliens, but not an entire fleet. Everything up to this point had merely been prologue, and that realization was deeply unsettling.

"I've already got ships moving toward their designated targets. We'll be heading out first thing tomorrow morning. This needs to be taken care of as soon as possible, just in case they decide to step up their security. Now, is there anything else?" He paused and evaluated the room, and when no one spoke up, he nodded, "All right then. Get some sleep. We move out in ten hours."

Red pushed his chair out and turned toward his partner, "I want to check in with Sally and see if there's anything we need to do before tomorrow. Do you mind?"

"Of course not," Purple replied. There was suddenly a nagging feeling that itched at the back of his mind, telling not to leave the room just yet. He glanced over at Mei, who had clearly been waiting for him to make eye contact. She gave a nod, as though affirming his suspicions. "Go on, Red. I'll catch up with you later."

Red gave his partner a kiss and a smile, and joined the group filing out through the doorway. Purple knew Spleenk and the Captain tended to wait until the room was empty before exiting themselves, and he wondered if Mei was responsible for the celerity with which they left the meeting. Then again, maybe they just wanted some time alone together. He was glad that things seemed to be working out for them.

"You wanted to talk?" He asked the prophetess.

Mei was trying to appear casual and failed appallingly. It was unsettling, and it made Purple want to shudder.

She drew in a breath and spoke, "You love Red very much."

He was already beginning to suspect he wouldn't like where this conversation was leading, "More than anything."

"How far are you willing to go for him?" She asked.

"To the end of the world." Purple replied without missing a beat, "I'd walk straight into Hell if I had to."

Mei eyed him with genuine curiosity. "And would you do this… even if you swore to him that you would not?"

Purple could feel himself becoming defensive and uncomfortable. The primitive, protective instincts in the oldest, deepest structures of his brain began flickering to life. It was the foolish, reckless impulse that sent people back into burning buildings for loved ones or pets, made them shield others from projectiles, or lift objects no reasonable creature should be able to.

"What's this about?"

She sighed and collected her thoughts before she spoke, "I do not envy the choice you will have to make."

Purple's face became hard in a matter of seconds. He felt the cold fingernails of dread dragging themselves down his spine and reaching through his skin, as if to tightly cradle his guts in an icy, cruel mock-embrace. "Drop the enigmatic bullshit and tell me what the fuck is going on."

Mei hesitated. She sighed, and looked at him with a heavy expression of regret, "You will have to betray Red's trust if both of you wish to survive what is to come. It will not be easy, and you will suffer greatly, but both of you _will_ live and eventually, he _will_ understand."

The words floated through Purple's mind, but that was all they were. Just sounds; pretty noises vibrating in the air. He struggled, for a solid half a minute, to process what they meant.

Ice-cold shock ignited and blossomed into angry flame, "You _can't_ know that."

She looked at him with skeptical incredulity.

The joy he'd seen on Red's face only last night haunted him. For the first time since their failed escape attempt all those years ago, Red believed they had a future. Hell, he'd even joked about having a _family_ , for Irk's sake. Red had never made jokes like that before, and neither had Purple, because it wouldn't have been funny. It would only have reminded them that they had no future and no choice. To betray Red would be to destroy everything they'd built and rebuilt together, and tear away the fragile hopes he knew were as delicate as gossamer.

"I can't. I _won't_. Not him, not _now_."

"No," she agreed quietly, "not now."

Purple clenched his fist and hated himself for the way it trembled. He squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth, "Why _me_?" He asked bitterly, "Can't you just tell _him_ this shit?"

Mei shook her head in disagreement, "It has to be you. If I gave this burden to Red and he made the choice, he would die." She took a breath and tried to explain, "Your instinct would always have told you to make the choice I'm talking about. You already know what you will need to do. I am telling you this because it is not a fixed point and there is still room for you to choose otherwise. I am trying to do you a kindness… offer you reassurance. When the time comes, I will not be able to intervene."

Purple's laugh was hollow and dark, "That's right, you've got _rules_. For the good of the universe, and all your other bullshit." His tone turned mocking, "Us pitiful, unenlightened creatures can't _possibly_ understand."

She looked hurt and Purple felt a small, petty satisfaction. He didn't realize she felt the pain she was causing him.

"I cannot change it. You cannot change it. You were headed for it the moment you fled Irk, with or without me. I… I am sorry."

She could feel his anger and fear, and she longed to reach out and touch his mind, offer him what little solace she could, but his aura was tight, dark, and closed-off. He would reject anything she did right now, consciously or unconsciously, and she deflated, quietly leaving him with his thoughts.

Purple sat alone in the room and brooded angrily. A cold mass formed in his stomach, and he clenched his fist, slamming it forcefully into the metal table.

That night, Purple curled into bed beside his mate who held him close as he fell asleep. Mercifully, he did not dream.

Mei did.

* * *

**Allusions & References**

The bit about **scientists and amorality** is a loose reference to Kurt Vonnegut's _Cat's Cradle_

Likewise, the quote about **wars coming like glacier** s is from Vonnegut's _Slaughterhouse Five_ (I go on binges every few years where I re-read his catalogue)

**Leonard Bast** is a character in E.M. Forster's _Howards End._ I have no idea why I named the salmon after him.

Red's **fear of bunnies** is from _Buffy's_ Anya.

**Kali** is a goddess of death.

There are probably more, but I lost track.

**Random Stuff**

I do not condone betta fish death battles under ANY circumstances. My mom has bettas (separately, of course). It just seemed like something the two of them would do.

Yes, I deliberately went heavy on the cuteness in the last chapter to make Mei's reveal hurt more.

Love to all of you! I'll be back with 25 soon!


	25. 25

**A/N:**  Sorry for the massive delay; this chapter is actually something like 80 pages all together, but I had to write the whole thing out before I could post so everything was in order. Lots of stuff happening all at once! 

As always, thank you dear beta MagentaMauve!

Also: Wilelel is pronounced: why-lee-el.

**25**

Dib waited aimlessly in the lounge, playing a game very much akin to Space Invaders on his hand terminal (except, in this case, you played as the invader) until Tak arrived. She had that familiar "all business" look about her as she crossed her arms and leaned noncommittally against the wall while Mimi waited patiently at her side.

"You have it?"

Dib smiled and nodded, patting the case resting at his feet, "One wireless Pak monitor, right here."

Tak's eyes lit up with mischief and her smile was satisfied and scheming. "Let's go, then. If anyone asks, we're testing the coms out for tomorrow. Which reminds me," she said, "I have some upgrades and a mod you might find useful, so we won't _actually_ be lying."

"I was trying to figure out if there was some way to sync up the data from Command and Control with the com equipment, but that's… way out of my league."

Tak smiled, "It's your lucky day then; that's exactly what I had in mind. Consider it a thank you for letting me in on your petty revenge plot. You're… you're really not so bad, Dib."

It was as close to a compliment as Dib suspected he would ever get from her, and smiled. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry about ruining your plan. I'm not sorry for saving Earth or anything, but, you know… I'm sorry it screwed you over. You were just trying to prove yourself to people who dismissed you and… well, I get that. In my own way."

There was the instinctive impulse to withdraw, to erect a metaphorical, protective barrier around herself and light it on fire as a warning for him to stay away unless he wanted trouble. She clenched but didn't snap, paused rather than shut herself down. What did it profit her to retract? What would she gain by being cruel or condescending? He _had_ come through for her with General Tho, and she might benefit (Tak refused to use the word _need_ , even in her own mind) from his abilities again.

"Thanks, Dib," she replied, and made an effort to remember the frustration he'd discussed with her while she'd been posing as a human on Earth, "your… paternal unit, right?"

He nodded, standing up and pocketing his hand terminal as he lifted the case on the floor by its handle, "Yeah. I've always been a disappointment in his eyes. Hell, he probably doesn't even know I'm gone. But you know something," he asked with a small but genuine smile, "that doesn't bother me anymore."

"It feels good to win one, doesn't it?" She replied.

"It does," he agreed as they started toward the docking bay where Lard Nar's ship was being prepared. It had already been serviced, but there were tests and checks that needed to be passed before they could depart. No one gave them any trouble, though Tak observed that security personnel had logged their entrance.

 _Good_ , she thought, _it's what_ I'd _do_. Everyone had a price, and working out the specific cost of each individual from whom she needed something was how she'd survived on the fringe for so long. It would be naive to assume that the resistance itself had greater intrinsic value to those who comprised it than anything else in the universe. In wartime, healthy suspicion was critical to one's survival. She was glad to see that the resistance hadn't softened Tenn.

They passed a small group of mechanics in the airlock. Most of them offered a smile and wave or a casual acknowledgement via eye contact and a nod. One shot Tak a nasty glare and tightened his jaw before ignoring them completely.

Tak failed to notice or care.

"Wonder what crawled up his ass and died," Dib muttered quietly to the female Irken as they passed the group.

Tak cringed in revulsion, then paused a moment, "Wait… that's one of your human idioms, right?"

"Yeah, it kind of means 'what's got him so grumpy', but more… crude, I guess."

"Good to know."

The vessel was virtually empty, which gave Dib an eerie sensation. He wondered if there were ghosts in space. He'd make it a point to investigate that sometime. He placed the carrying case on the nearest surface that wasn't a console and allowed Tak to look it over.

"Perfect."

* * *

 

Lard Nar drew in a deep breath and gave the order to disembark from Malterra. He had expected to be nervous but instead felt a determined smile settle across his face. His chair on the bridge felt more comfortable than it ever had, and he couldn't be sure if the hospital staff had reupholstered it with some kind of magical new memory foam or if it was a side-effect of him feeling more confident in his role as captain.

"We'd like to welcome you back to Resisty Spacelines," Red's unctuous, customer-service voice announced over the ship's PA, "we will be entering Quantumspace in one minute and counting; please remain seated in the upright position and fasten your seatbelt securely. Failure to do so may result in gross injury, hemorrhaging, spontaneous bowel evacuation, blurred vision, double vision, _super_ double vision, x-ray vision, and psychological regression to infancy. I am only lying about _one_ of these; proceed at your own risk! As always, thank you for flying Resisty Spacelines; it's not like you have another choice!"

The captain chuckled in spite of himself and watched as green lights lit up across his display, indicating that preliminary procedures had been completed and the crew was secured and ready to go. He opened a channel to Engineering and said, "Prepare for a jump to Quantumspace in three, two, one..."

The transition was smooth and hardly noticeable. He leaned back in his chair and relaxed.

* * *

 

The reception the two Irkens received aboard the _Icarus_ was anything but congenial. Everyone was cold, stone-faced, and well-armed, greeting them as hostile prisoners rather than the allies they were.

Tenn and Tak both tensed. They hadn't expected a warm welcome, but were unprepared for one of such enmity. Mimi's eyes glowed red and narrowed as she silently activated combat mode.

Lulu rolled her eyes as she stepped out of the ship to stand in front of her crewmates, "Don't look so happy to see us, fellas."

Wilelel's thick, Andorskian eyebrows that had previously expressed barely-contained rage arched in shock at the sound of the Azurian's voice. He stammered, confused and embarrassed, as he fought to establish a neutral expression. The eyebrows didn't lie, though. He was still deeply unsettled by her presence, more so than he should have been.

She folded her arms and stared expectantly at the shorter, furry creature who looked like a miniature, bluer, four-eyed version of what Dib would have called the Abominable Snowman.

"Oh, yes, right," he said, fumbling with the firearm in his hand as he flailed to salute. He lost his grip and accidentally pulled the trigger. A beam of red light sizzled through the air and struck one of his crewmen in the leg. The creature screamed in pain and crumpled to the ground.

"Not _again!_ " He groaned.

"Sorry, Brett!" Wilelel called apologetically, "Somebody, take him to the medic."

The two nearest the wounded alien helped him to his uninjured leg and disappeared out the door as he muttered something about this being the thirteenth time.

Lulu frowned and lifted the gun from the ground, turning it over in her hand. She caught Wilelel's dark eyes meaningfully and switched the safety on before sticking it in her own belt.

"You treat all your friends like this?"

"With all due respect, Lieutenant, I wasn't told _you_ were coming."

She frowned, "But you knew 'Nar was sending _someone_."

He scoffed, "Yeah, _them._ "

"So you're questioning the captain's judgement, then?"

Wilelel said "No," but his eyebrows said otherwise.

"You did this to yourself, Wilelel," she sighed, "you disobeyed a _direct_ order for no good reason, and you almost got damn near your whole crew killed. If it were me, I'd have hung your ass out to dry as an example of what happens to traitors." Her blue eyes were fierce and sharp, and commanded the gaze of all four of his, "Lucky for you, Nar's different. He gives everybody a second chance. I'm advisin' you not to waste it."

A heavy silence passed between them and Wilelel seemed to shrink from it.

"We ain't here to tell you how to run your ship. Tak is an engineer and programming specialist here to make sure the hack goes right. Your old head tech got killed on Vort," she didn't ever _say_ it was his fault and her tone was not accusatory, though the implication was clear, "she's the best we got. He didn't wanna send her alone, in case she found herself oh, I don't know, walkin' outta her ship to meet an angry, armed crew starin' her down."

Wilelel withered, and both Irkens thought he might actually whimper.

"An' me," she said, "you know what _I'm_ doin' here."

There was another long, cold pause in which Lulu's authority seemed to tower over the furry little alien. He gulped nervously.

"Now," she sighed, "let's try this again. Hi, Wilelel," she smiled, extending her hand, "good to see you again."

He shook her hand weakly.

"I already introduced Tak," she said, gesturing to the violet-eyed Irken before indicating the other, "this is Tenn. She's 'Nar's Chief of Security. Why don't you take us to the bridge?"

"Y-yes, erm, right, come, come with me, ladies."

Lulu rolled her eyes and removed her hand terminal from her pocket. She neither made a show of the gesture nor an attempt to hide it. Something wasn't right. She sent a quick message to Lard Nar, knowing he would understand. She caught Tenn's eyes, and it was obvious that the security chief was deeply unsettled. A glance at Tak told her the other Irken was in agreement. _Damn the captain's better nature_ , she thought to herself.

* * *

 

Skoodge and Shloonktappoxis found Myka, the new captain of the _Frustra_ to be pleasant, sharp, and agreeable. Her orange scales were flecked with a yellow iridescence that gave her a warm glow and her red eyes were wide, rounded triangle-trapezoid shapes with feminine softness. She stood about two or three feet taller than Skoodge, but she was slight of build. Rather than appearing fragile, she had a toughness and solidity about her that Skoodge was not eager to test. Where Lulu gave off the impression of a rough-around-the-edges, get-things-done mercenary, Myka was a straight-backed military professional.

She saluted Shloonktapooxis as he floated out of their shuttle.

"Shucks, Myka," he said, "you don't have to salute me or nothin'!"

Myka relaxed, "You outrank me, sir."

"Maybe so, but we're all in this together! Me and Skoodge are just here to make sure you don't have any complications."

"I'm glad to have you both on board," she said, "Quib, the new tech from Vort, has been having some… issues."

"What kinda issues?"

"When he first came on board, he was mostly fine, but lately, he's been making a lot of mistakes. You have to tell him at least six times to do something, and then he forgets he's done it. He's not lazy, though; and the medic says there's no neural degeneration. I don't know what's going on. Maybe you'll be able to figure out what I'm missing."

She turned her attention to the stout former-Invader and extended a hand, "Anyway, it's good to meet you, Skoodge. When this is over, you'll have to tell me about how you took down Blorch."

He glanced at Shloonktapooxis for guidance as to whether Myka was being complimentary or cruel.

"The Slaughtering Rat-People were nobody's friends," the cone-shaped creature explained, "as awful as it is to say, ya did us a favor by taking Blorch out. I mean, I'm pretty easygoin' and all that; it takes _a lot_ to make me not want to help ya, and even _I_ think they were assholes. Hell, ask any Slaughtering Rat-Person who _didn't_ live on Blorch and _they'll_ thank you for gettin' rid of the assholes givin' 'em a bad name. The ones I know just call themselves 'Rat People' nowadays. Been goin' by that for decades, too."

Myka nodded in agreement, "My friend Remy's a Rat-Person, and even said Blorch is doing more good as a Parking Structure Planet than it ever did as as a homeworld," she explained. "They were just as bad as Irk; only difference was they didn't have the technology."

Skoodge, who had never been admired for his work before, actually blushed.

"I-is it hot in here?" He asked, awkwardly tugging at his collar with a finger, confused by the sudden rush of blood to his cheeks, "My face… what's-what's _happening?_ "

"Don't worry about it, buddy," Shloonktapooxis replied, patting the Irken on the back with his antenna, "You're just blushing!"

Skoodge cringed, "I don't like it," he replied, "it's… uncomfortable. I've understood most of the other emotions so far, but… what's the purpose of this one?"

"Something to do with social order, I think," Myka answered.

"It's extremely unpleasant," Skoodge replied uncomfortably.

"Aw, cheer up!" Shloonktapooxis tried, "At least puberty was easy on ya."

* * *

Purple did an excellent job of looking thoughtful while he stared at Red's monitor and failed to comprehend anything he saw on it. He quietly munched on the bag of chips in his hand and took a moment to visually appreciate his partner instead, which was a task he found held his interest far longer than whatever he might've seen on the screen.

Red could feel his partner's eyes on him, and couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction, "See something you like?"

"That's rhetorical, right? I mean, if you can't answer that for yourself by now, I don't know what to tell you."

Red chuckled, "Fair enough."

"So, what's all… this?" Purple asked, feigning interest as he gestured at the large screen in front of them.

"Engine stuff," Red replied, frowning.

"What's wrong?" Purple had seen that expression on his partner before, and it hadn't been an omen of their good fortune.

Red clicked around and expanded one of the data fields, "That's weird..." he said, "engine temps all read normal, but it doesn't look like… wait, that _can't_ be right," he opened another field beside the box he was already looking at, "… _shit!"_

Purple was seized by a momentary spike of fear as he watched Red's eyes bulge in disbelief and his body go rigid as he slammed a button on his console down with no effect.

"Fuck!" He cursed, opening up a command prompt and typing into it frantically.

Purple held his breath and clenched the bag of chips tightly in his fist. The crunch sent a pang of disappointment through his heart, and he recognized it as one of the coping mechanisms he'd developed as Tallest: focus on something inane and stupid when you're in a situation you can't control. There was nothing he could do to stop a ship commandeered by a defect and a pointy-haired alien lightyears away, but saving the donuts was within his abilities, so that's what he had done. It had served him well then, but it was somewhat detrimental at current.

He knew that whatever had happened was bad because the fear in his partner was real and immediate, the kind Red only displayed when his mate was in danger. Red grabbed onto Purple's arm and steadied him just as sudden turbulence threatened his footing.

Red's voice was firm over the PA while the ship rocked violently around them, "Hold onto something. Things are gonna be a little shaky until the engines cool down," he dialed Lard Nar immediately, "You need to tell everyone to stop _right now..._ just _do_ it; we don't have time to explain!"

Red sighed and his posture relaxed, though he kept his grip on Purple a moment longer before offering a gentle squeeze.

The captain appeared to materialize beside them and asked the question forming on Purple's lips, "What the _hell_ was that?!"

Red's expression was grave, "The engine wasn't venting."

Lard Nar looked puzzled as he pulled up the most recent data on his hand terminal, "But the readouts are fine,"

"The _temperature_ _looks_ fine, but check the output joules."

The captain went pale and horrified, "I'll get Maintenance and Engineering on it."

"I'll run diagnostics and do my own investigating," Red replied. "We need to find out if it happened to everyone or just us. That'll give us a place to start."

The captain nodded and wasted no time.

* * *

Suddenly, the _Icarus_ began a breaking maneuver. It was not jarring or distracting; the crew hardly noticed, but Tak knew ships, and felt it immediately.

"What's going on?" Wilelel asked his lead navigator.

"We just received orders to stop, sir."

"From _who?_ "

"The captain."

" _I'm_ your captain, and I didn't tell you anything."

"Lard Nar, sir. He issued the order."

Wilelel sighed, "Why won't he just go by 'admiral'? It'd be so much less confusing."

Lulu shrugged, "You know how he is. Doesn't like to put himself above everyone else 'cause technically, he's _still_ a captain, too."

Wilelel's sour face became more neutral as he received an incoming notification on his com-link.

" _I apologize for issuing an order directly to your navigators, but it was an emergency situation. We have just become aware of an issue with our engine. We don't know the nature of the problem or how many others may be affected. All ships, enable remote access to your status logs; we'll need to collaborate as much as possible. Please stand by for further instructions."_

Lulu noticed Wilelel's increased agitation and asked, "What's the problem?"

"Engine trouble," he grumbled.

Tak bolted upright and began issuing commands to the engineers around her, "I need someone to run diagnostics… you, yes, _you_ , with the yellow crest. Thanks! Okay, you," she pointed to a creature who resembled an Earth snail crossed with a rhinoceros, "get me the ship's logs for the past 48 hours; that's maintenance _and_ digital logs… _yes_ , that means downloads _and_ uploads," she sighed and bit her tongue, keeping the insult at the tip of it silent. She had no time to waste. She then dispatched a team to the engine room, and was back to staring with burning focus at the monitor in front of her before Wilelel even processed what she'd done.

His blue face flushed deeper and deeper, until it was an ugly, bruised color. He was utterly apoplectic as he screeched, "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Tak, unaware the question was directed at her, remained engrossed in her work.

Wilelel stormed over to her terminal and thumped his open palm down on the panel in front of her. To her credit, Tak did not even flinch.

"I asked you," he repeated in a slow, angry voice, "what in the _hell_ you think you're doing!"

Tak observed the furry, blue alien with his severe eyebrows sharply angled in trembling rage and allowed a short pause to pass before she answered.

"I'm _trying_ to make sure your ship doesn't blow up. If you want to explode, be my guest, but at least let us get off it first."

Lulu wondered if Wilelel might be having a stroke. She knew the symptoms were similar in most species and he certainly seemed to displaying a number of them now.

"We're _not_ going to blow up," he raged, "we don't have a quantum drive!"

Tak narrowed her eyes, "Who said anything about a quantum drive?"

"Lard Nar!"

"No," she replied firmly, "he _didn't_."

"You are testing my patience," he replied, trying and failing to force himself to appear calm. "You are a guest on my ship. You are _not_ my crew, and I will _not_ allow you to endanger them. _I_ am the captain here. All orders go through _me_." He took a deep breath, "Lard Nar said _he_ was having trouble with _his_ engine. Everybody knows his ship has a quantum drive. Since no one else reported a problem, it's safe to say the problem is with _his_ engine or the quantum drive itself. Either way, _we_ don't have a problem."

Tak remained skeptical. She didn't like him. He made too many assumptions, which was a great way to get people killed. How he had managed to become a captain in the first place?

Sighing, she went back to her work and ignored him.

Tenn watched the exchange with a concerned frown that creased deeper the longer it lingered. Wilelel knew something they didn't; she was certain of that, but she could not deduce what precisely it was. She'd have to keep her eyes open.

* * *

Things had been running smoothly on Dib's end, until he took a second look at the com logs. Prior to their jump into quantumspace (and near-explosion), messages were coming in and going out at the usual speed. Afterward, there was a uniform 10-second delay for unsecured text and email messages.

He frowned and clicked the little arrow at the bottom of the box to expand the details. The server's address was correct and it looked fine, but something about that delay bothered him. The only thing he and Tak _hadn't_ upgraded the night before was the standard com channel used for general email and text chatter among the resistance. The exchange of memes and superfluous banter was fun and good for morale, but did not require extensive protection and security.

The point in all this was that the one server they hadn't upgraded was the only one operating more slowly than usual. The information being exchanged over it wasn't mission-critical, but the circumstances _were_ suspicious. If he'd been someone else, or if the ship hadn't almost blown up, he might have shrugged it off, but Dib wasn't taking any chances at the moment.

* * *

Zim made a frustrated noise and shoveled some bright green noodles into his mouth. He'd given up on utensils at this point and was using his hands as he pondered over how to solve the problem he was facing.

How could he transfer the properties of his time-stasis field into a hardenable but non-lethal goo? He knew it would work as a ray or a pulse, but goo was uncomfortable and slimy and therefore, better. Fast-curing synthetic amber could be inadvertently lethal, since most creatures needed to breathe. While he did not like the Dib, he no longer felt obligated to end his pathetic existence. Though smelly and inferior, he _had_ been useful. Besides, if he were dead, who would be Zim's test subject?

He also needed to figure out a way to reverse the effects. Such a device might actually be helpful, should they be in a situation that required capturing someone without involving grievous bodily injury.

Now that he thought about it, something like this would be a great way to deal with potential explosions, too. The applications were endless; now if only he could make the Irk damn thing _work!_

"Foolish construction! You _dare_ defy Zim's will!" He shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the failed prototype, proud he had restrained the urge to throw it against the nearest wall. His anger collapsed and he stared despondently at the puddles of goo all over the floor in consistencies varying from crystalline, to gelatinous, to plain liquid. What a mess.

It was not unusual for the Irken to be so completely absorbed in his own mind that he failed to acknowledge what was happening around him, so when the automatic door swished open and shut, he did not look up. He _did_ hear the thud and subsequent shout of an unsuspecting creature that had slipped in one of the puddles.

"Be gone, GIR! Your master is working!"

There was a grumbling noise, "Who the hell is GIR?"

Zim startled and went rigid. That was decidedly _not_ his robot companion's voice. It was female, but belonged to no one he recognized immediately.

"And what is this… slime?" The last word came out as a question.

"It's supposed to be _goo,"_ Zim lamented as he hopped off his workbench to investigate the interloper. Until this point in his life, the former food-service drone had never felt the impulse to apologize. It was so strange that he froze for a moment, unsure of how to proceed.

"I-Iris!" He managed as he scrambled to her side once the shock had worn off and the panic had set in, "I didn't - I thought, I - sorry - um, goo…."

She'd been angry at first, but now she had to fight the urge to laugh as she watched the frantic, pink-eyed Irken spout random, incoherent fragments and distraught noises. He was pulling on his antennae and visibly sweating, his eyes bulging wide in a combination of panic, horror, and embarrassment.

"It's okay… Zim, right?" She replied.

The shorter Irken let out a relieved exhale.

"What am I sitting in?" She asked, squinting to examine a glob of the liquid on her finger.

"Goo! Or at least, it was supposed to be goo. I am building a stasis field goo-cannon that will stop enemies in their tracks without killing them! I've got the the stasis field generator, but can't get it in goo-form."

"Does it _need_ to be goo?" She asked, rubbing the substance between two fingers.

"Goo is icky and uncomfortable! And the field will be easier to neutralize if I can just wash it away. I've had… unfortunate experiences with stasis fields."

She shrugged. Once upon a time, when she'd still been a mother and wife, she'd have left Zim with his weapon, unable to bring herself to consult on something that might hurt someone in the wrong hands. She was neither of those things now, and she was certain she wouldn't ever be again.

"And you don't want it to kill anyone?" She asked.

"That's the whole point," Zim answered.

Iris sighed, "Well, I guess I could look over the design, if you want."

Zim was about to reply that he needed no help because he was _Zim_ , which basically meant _I'm too stubborn and would rather blow this moon to pieces than ask for assistance,_ but the old approach hadn't done him any favors in the past. Plus, it would look _really_ bad to everyone else, and he'd never hear the end of it from the Dib. His recently-developed conscience might take issue with it, too.

"Prepare to be impressed!" He replied, leading her toward the device on his workbench.

* * *

Myka observed her techs with eyes and posture that said, _"I know you'll figure this out"_ in a way that was both supportive and a little threatening at the same time.

"Where's Quib?" She asked suddenly, "the new tech. Where is he?"

Someone snickered, "Where _else_?"

As if on cue, a Vortian only a few inches taller than Skoodge burst into the room, panting and startled.

"Why aren't we moving? I felt a breaking maneuver! What's happened?!"

Myka stared at him with suspicious curiosity, "Where were you?"

"Bathroom, Ma'am," he replied, a little embarrassed, "um, what's going on?"

She sighed, "Right. The thing. It looks like Lard Nar had engine trouble. We're not sure how many ships are affected or how it happened."

He nodded before logging back into his workstation and conferring with the alien sitting beside him.

"Thing?" Skoodge asked in a voice quiet enough to avoid carrying.

"He can't digest the artificial sweeter in our protein rations. Makes him sick. He says he takes something for it, but it doesn't seem to be helping. It's become a running joke around here that if you can't find Quib, check the bathroom." She paused for a moment, "…You don't think…"

"Could be," Skoodge replied, "Keep a close eye on him… I think I'm gonna use the bathroom."

Myka understood his implication and nodded, "It's just down the hall and to the left. If it's occupied, try the one in the crew quarters, room 2831. It might be locked but I'm sure you'll find a way in."

* * *

Tenn began her investigation with anyone who accessed the ship in the 48 hours before departure. There was no way to tell _when_ the problem had occured, but instinct suggested it had to be fairly recent.

The last two names on her list made her frown with concern. Dib and Tak had no reason to be on the ship last night, and yet, they were. Security footage confirmed it. The most likely answer was that they were co-conspirators in a plot to destroy the resistance… and then what? There was no motive, really. Tak had just completed a successful mission and received the praise she'd been chasing for so long. It was possible that it was all an elaborate effort to take out Zim, but both of them knew Zim would be staying behind. Dib wasn't going to blow up the ship _he_ was on; that didn't fit his behavior.

Perhaps Tak had used him as a decoy? She was smart enough and it was certainly within her capability. She stared thoughtfully at the female Irken completely absorbed in her console monitor. There was no questioning that she _could_ do it; Tenn needed to know whether or not she _would_.

She sighed despairingly and reviewed the security logs again, just to be sure she hadn't missed anything. Nell, Pax, Rodger, Quib, Var Nahnd… all of them engineers, all of them clean. Except, there was something that itched in the back of her mind when she looked at the list.

She pulled up their files and skimmed through the important details. Everything was in order until she got to Quib. He was an engineer, only, his personnel file said he'd been assigned to the _Frustra_ shortly after the mission on Vort. Either the Quib on the _Frustra_ was an impostor, or the one on Malterra. She pulled up the security footage and put a secure call through to Shloonktapooxis.

* * *

"I'm sure that's not Quib," Shloonktapooxis said, "I mean, I'm lookin' right at him now, and there's no mistaking one for the other."

"Right, but how to we know which is the real one?" She asked.

"I knew him, the guy in the video… not well, or anythin' like that, more like knew him in passing, but he joined up with us back when we were still small. Only problem is it _can't_ be him."

"What? Why not?"

"'Cause he's dead." Shloonktapooxis replied, "Or at least, he's _supposed_ to be. Died on the mission to Vort. His escape pod got shot down. Name is Kar Ghann, if I remember right. I sent a letter of condolence to his brother."

"Well, clearly, that didn't happen."

"Unless he's a zombie! Hey, maybe he has amnesia and _thinks_ he's Quib, or somethin'! That'd be a cool movie!"

Tak frowned, "Be serious for a minute. Do you think they're both working together?"

He thought for a moment. "Maybe. Quib _did_ go suspiciously missing just before the whole ship-'splodey thing went down. But don't get yourself all worried! Skoodge is already doin' some recon the real Quib, and I'll make sure he doesn't go anywhere. We'll find out how they're connected. Hey, speakin' of movies, I'm putting together a movie night for the crew. Red and Purple are in. You think you'd wanna come?"

She blinked in confusion for a moment, "Movie night?"

"Yeah, you know, when you get a bunch of people together and eat snacks and watch a movie?

"What does that have to do with Quib?"

"Nothin'! Just thought I'd ask. Ya seem a little stressed and I figured it'd be nice havin' somethin' to look forward to!"

"Um, thanks. Sure, I guess that sounds like fun," she replied, cringing inwardly at herself for agreeing, "Let's just focus on this whole 'someone tired to kill the captain and most of our crew' thing first, ok?"

"Gotcha! I'll call ya when we've got something!"

Tenn disappeared from the screen and Shloonktapooxis turned to Myka, "So, somebody on Malterra used Quib's ID last night to access Lard Nar's ship."

"We have to detain him," she said, already in the process of calling security.

"We don't even know if he's involved yet. Let's not throw him in the brig 'cause someone stole his ID."

Myka stared at him flatly, "The guy who's been making all-too-frequent trips to the bathroom for a condition he's treated his whole life, who's been conveniently forgetting things, and just _happened_ to be elsewhere while Nar's ship almost exploded because someone used _his_ ID to conduct sabotage?"

Shloonktapooxis cringed, "Well, when ya say it like that…" he replied. His features twisted in deep thought, which expressed itself on his face as if he'd eaten something very bitter and was painfully constipated. "Give me a chance to talk with him before you throw him in the brig."

She sighed, "I'm still confiscating his com link and hand terminal."

* * *

Tenn shook her head, ending the call with Shloonktapooxis and put one through to Spleenk.

"Hey, Spleenk, I need you to pull everything you can on Kar Ghann and Quib. Find out if there's a connection between them and look over their psych evals for anything I should know about."

"Sure, but some of the information is going to be tough to come by."

"What do you mean? I can give you whatever clearance you need."

"Psych evals are confidential," Spleenk said, "which means looking at them involves paperwork."

Even though no one used anything akin to paper anymore, the term had yet to be replaced in the digital age throughout the universe. The four-armed alien sighed despondently, " _A lot_ of paperwork." Spleenk, like every other creature in the universe with the exception of the impossibly sadistic bastards who created more of it, _hated_ paperwork.

"Why?"

"Ethics. Even if we argue we're technically operating outside any government's jurisdiction, there are still standards of professionalism. Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that."

"We think Ghann may have tried to kill the captain and everyone on board his ship, and we're not sure if Quib's part of it or involved in something larger."

Spleenk instantly bolted upright in his chair, shocked, "…What?"

"The engines didn't vent. The whole thing would've blown if Red hadn't caught the glitch. Ghann had access to the ship and was on it last night. And he's been using Quib's identity. I don't need to know their life stories; I just need you to find out if and how they're connected." She drew in a deep breath, "We got blindsided, and I don't like it."

"I'll get you what you need," he said, in an strange, cold voice.

She shivered at the blank screen where Spleenk's face had been a moment ago. She'd never seen him like that before. There had been an instant of real terror in his eyes, and then a quiet rage she hadn't imagined he possessed. She had no doubt he'd get the answers she requested; she just hoped he wouldn't be filing an incident report alongside them.

* * *

Spleenk's vision swam as the sharp spikes of panic began to close in on him from all sides. He shut his eyes and forced himself with great difficulty to take long, deep breaths in spite of his body's instinct to do otherwise. His chest hurt. Every beat of his racing heart made it worse. He clutched the armrests of his chair with four numb hands. It was like drowning.

Knowing that Lard Nar's position as captain made him a target was very different than experiencing what it meant in reality.

It was given that sooner or later, someone would go after the leader of the resistance directly, but it was somehow unfathomable that someone would try to kill Spleenk's boyfriend, even though they were the same person.

He considered curling up under his desk so he could get himself back under control. It had been a while since he'd experienced a panic attack this severe and it caught him off-guard.

Things like that always found a way to remind you of their existence, he thought, feeling very small in the vast, suffocating darkness behind his eyelids. They'd go dormant, sometimes even for years, and then from out of nowhere, they'd slither out of their black, little holes and sink their venomous fangs into your back without so much as a "hello, remember me?".

The feeling did not pass, but it ebbed slightly, just enough for him to breathe semi-normally again. His thoughts slowed from a blinding sprint to a blistering run, which while still uncomfortable, he could deal with. He _had_ to.

* * *

It had taken under an hour for the various techs and engineers to assess that it was only Lard Nar's engines that failed to vent. This was both a relief and a concern, seeing as the trouble was either a freak accident or deliberate sabotage, and it wasn't looking like an accident.

Red had abandoned his station, convinced the problem lay somewhere in the hardware rather than the programming. The ship's mechanics fumbled around blindly in the engine room, examining parts and tightening screws, generally trying to make themselves look busy and hide the fact that they had absolutely no idea what was going on.

Having nothing else to do, Purple leaned against the wall and watched Red work. He was painfully bored but doing his best not to show it. Painful boredom was at least preferable to acknowledging his most recent conversation with Mei, which nagged at the back of his mind like an infected splinter. Nope, he preferred the boredom, thank you very much.

"Hand me the thing," Red requested, holding one hand out to his mate while the other gently tugged at something inside the panel he was working on.

Purple sighed as his eyes moved over the table with at least twelve different tools and devices on it, "Is it pointy?"

"What? No."

"Is it blue?"

"What is this, twenty questions?"

"Literally everything on this table could be 'the thing', Dear."

"Ah, you know what I mean… the thing, the HDE-PCI configuration tester."

Purple was about to ask if Red wanted the rest of the alphabet too, but stopped himself. He watched Red remove some kind of board, so he picked up a four-inch thick, rectangular object about the size of a tablet and hoped for the best as he handed it to Red.

Red smiled as he slid the board into the slot at the top of the box Purple had handed him, "I love you."

"I know. I'm kind of amazing."

"And humble too."

"Naturally."

Red rolled his eyes playfully and booted up the device. The screen showed the normal boot sequence, flashed to black, then resumed where it had left off. Red frowned unhappily at the device even though it started up without further issue.

"Something wrong with it?" Purple asked.

"The screen glitched," Red explained, "it's not supposed to do that."

"Percussive maintenance always works for me."

"No, it doesn't," Red corrected, "you apply your _percussive maintenance_ and it breaks _worse_ , and then _I_ fix it for you."

Purple shrugged, "It ends up fixed, right?"

"Cheeky bastard."

"It's part of my charm. So, tell me, why did the screen do the blinky thing?"

Red sighed and turned his attention to the device in his hand, "There's something wrong with either the tester or the board. Or if we're really unlucky, both."

It turned out to be the board. Not only the original board that Red had pulled directly from the engine, but also the back-up board, the _other_ back-up board, and the if-you're-using-this-things-have-gone-really- _really_ -bad board were similarly corrupted.

Some kind of virus had gotten into the hardware. Much to Red's dismay, it also corrupted the testers, but luckily, there were enough to spare onboard. If he had a few weeks to study the problem, he might have been able to solve it. Every time he managed to isolate and quarantine the virus, it began attacking the program Red was running to kill it. The best he could do was make sure it hadn't infected the ship's other computer systems and build a new board from scratch.

Building the board wasn't hard; there was a fabricator onboard and it could produce the necessary parts in half an hour. The time-suck was in programming it when you couldn't be sure the ship's systems weren't compromised.

"This doesn't happen by accident," The captain remarked.

"No, it doesn't." Red replied firmly, "Someone definitely knew what they were doing."

"Sabotage, then?"

* * *

**References**

**Brett always getting shot** is a reference to _Archer_

There are some callbacks to "Walk for your Lives"

Zim's goo cannon is half-inspired by the GLOO cannon from Bethesda's _Prey_ (while fun, it didn't have much replay value and I'm still a little miffed it considered my decision to kill the child trafficker and steal his stuff "immoral" and "cruel" because he was helpless).

**Notes**

The virus in this chapter was inspired by the Conflickr worm of 2009ish, which decimated my computer's hard drives so thoroughly that even a factory reset couldn't save it. Next chapter is in beta!


	26. 26

**A/N:** As always, thank you MagentaMauve for beta-ing this despite your busy life! I'm endlessly grateful for your time and encouragement.

Also, thanks to everyone sticking with this thing! Constructive feedback is welcomed and appreciated! 

 

* * *

 

Tak’s hand terminal suddenly began chirping like a small, starving colony of baby birds that sensed a long-overdue, imminent meal. A pit that was really more of a canyon opened in her stomach, and it widened with every fraction of a second it took her to remove the device from her pocket. That alarm could only be  _ one _ thing, but she still held out an irrational spark of hope that she might be wrong. 

She wasn’t.

“ _ Shit _ ,” Tak swore in a voice edged with panic as she stared at the device with horrified eyes. 

“What?” Lulu, Tenn, and the eight other people nearest her asked at once.

“The probe I left to spy on that base when we intercepted the  _ Miyuki _ just picked something up,” she said, turning the screen of her device to show her teammates.

“That’s a cargo hauler,” Lulu observed.

“What we got must have only been half the shipment,” Tak replied, “they must be picking up the other half.”

* * *

 

Nothing could ever be simple, could it? Lard Nar sighed and pinched his eyes with his right thumb and forefinger. They had to do  _ something _ about the cargo ship, but he was, as Lulu would have said, shit out of luck. He had no one to spare and until the engines were back online, no means of transport.

“Excuse me, captain,” Mei’s voice interrupted his thoughts and he opened his eyes, “I believe Buir and I can be of service.”

“What?”

“I have seen what must be done,” she replied cryptically, “in ten minutes you will receive a transmission from your contact on Palamedes Station explaining that an Irken cargo ship plans to dock there and refuel. That is where we must go, if we are to take the shipment without exposing the resistance.”

The captain’s head spun and his mouth hung open for a brief moment before he could collect himself, “Even if you’re right about this, Mei, Palamedes is a space station, not a prison ship. Can you and Buir really take it on your own?”

She sighed, “No, we cannot. The alarms and heightened state of alert on the Void Ship allowed me to successfully induce the hallucination. But I  _ could _ get us into the dock without issue, which is as far into the station as required. We would only need one other to assist us.”

He frowned deeply. “No one can go anywhere with the engines down,” he explained, “so the point is moot.”

“The docking bay’s remaining shuttle is not experiencing complications.”

He eyed her suspiciously.

“I told you, captain, I have seen what must be done.”

“You’re not usually this clear about things, Mei. And you’ve  _ never _ been forthcoming.”

“I understand your reluctance, captain. I am troubled by it as well. I have never seen anything so clearly before. I can only assume it must be incredibly important, and that I must be involved in some way.”

He had the feeling she was right, but loathed to admit it and drew in a deep breath. There was exactly  _ one _ person both qualified  enough and able to do the job without compromising the current mission, and it happened to be one of the last people he wanted to send.

“I will keep him safe, captain.” She said, reading the thoughts etched in his concerned, sober face, “I swear to you, he will come home.”

Lard Nar exhaled in acquiescence, “Red’s not going to like it.”

She smiled a little sadly, “I know.”

* * *

The captain had not been wrong in his estimation of Red’s reaction.

“No. He’s  _ not _ going alone.”

“He won’t be alone, Red,” Lard Nar tried, “Mei and Buir will be there.”

Red gave a mocking laugh, “ _ That’s  _ comforting. No. If he goes, I go with him.”

“You know I need you here,” the captain reasoned, “believe me, if I could spare you, I would. You  _ know _ I would. Someone tried to kill us all, and it definitely wasn’t you, which means you’re the only engineer on board I trust to fix the problem.”

“You’re quick not to send Spleenk,” Red retorted, bitterness lingering at the edge of his tone.

“He’s on Malterra,” Lard Nar replied, “and he’s a psychiatrist! What’s he going to do in a firefight, diagnose them to death? Ask them to calmly rethink the source of their aggression?” The captain exhaled and his voice was firm, “He’s not qualified for this. Have you  _ seen  _ him try to be stealthy?”

Red hadn’t, but imagined it involved a lot of flailing arms, fumbling, and apologies. He would’ve laughed at the mental picture if he had not been so upset.

Purple had yet to voice his own opinion on the matter. Had it been anyone else, he would’ve been eager to dismiss Red’s concern and seize the opportunity to  _ do something _ instead of standing around uselessly. He wanted nothing to do with Mei right now and he felt himself seethe inwardly. How could she have the audacity to request his help after telling him she wouldn’t come to his aid later, when he would need it most? The only thing that prevented him from suggesting she go fuck herself was Red’s presence. 

Purple forced himself to appear impassive as he drew in a deep breath. He exhaled and stilled himself, forcing the unpleasantness aside. He turned his focus toward Mei, in whose eyes he read a strangely pleading sentiment he hadn’t anticipated.

_ Please trust me, _ she seemed to say.

“Once we get the engines online, we’ll figure something out,” Red replied sharply.

“Don’t I get a say?” Purple interrupted. His voice was even and strangely calm, though he could swear his insides were trembling.

Red could read him instantly and his expression grew harsh, “Of course you have a say. You  _ don’t _ get to give me bullshit about how stupid playing the hero is, then turn around and do it yourself.”

“I guess I should just sit here and look pretty, then?” He asked, a little hotly.

“That’s not what I’m saying,”

“Really?” Purple replied, “Because that’s what it sounds like. In all the time we’ve known each other, have I  ever  trie d to speak for  _ you _ ?”

Red grit his teeth.

Purple’s voice was softer now, “Honestly?”

Red turned his face away, unwilling to allow his emotions to betray him in front of the small group. He knew the control he had over the situation was illusory at best, and he felt it dissolving like wet sugar in his hands as he fought even harder to grasp it. His clenched fist trembled as he opened and closed it nervously. He had nothing he could say to that, and he knew it.

“I love you, but I don’t need your permission,” Purple said.

The red-eyed Irken drew a harsh, sharp breath and let it out slowly, though it did nothing to calm him. It only seemed to magnify his growing agitation. He did not look at Purple when he spoke, “It should be Skoodge. Not you.  _ He’s _ the recon expert,” he turned his hostility, and his focus, toward Mei, “ _ you _ should have mentioned this  _ yesterday _ . You know what’s going to happen on this mission but you couldn’t predict that the engines almost exploded?!”

“I can only see what might be possible, and there was never a possibility where you failed to save the ship,” she replied in a calm voice, hoping to reassure him. “You are needed here.”

Red’s expression burned angrier than she’d ever seen. She wished she could tell him why he couldn’t be there, that the circumstances of the mission would allow her to save only one of them, and it had to be Purple. She wanted to tell him that this was the only way they could both survive in the long run. It took everything she had not to confess that the future wasn’t fair and Red would need to trust Purple in spite of the promise she knew he would have to break; Red would nearly lose his mind with grief and worry, but they would survive and it would be all right. More than anything, she wanted him to know that for someone so gifted with a sight for the proverbial “big picture,” he was being an idiot.

“I cannot see everything,” she explained gently, “I am seeing this event on Palamedes with unusual clarity, and I am struggling to see anything else. All I know is that everyone is exactly where they will be needed, and Purple must come with me. I swear, he will return to you. Whatever the cost, I  _ will _ keep him safe.”

“I trust her, Red,” Purple added. Whether he liked her or not at the moment, he  _ did _ trust her. Mei hadn’t steered them wrong yet, and for her to have such a clear vision of something had to mean it was important. Perhaps he could use this as an opportunity to probe her for more information about what she’d told him. She might be willing to grant him that in exchange for his help. 

“I will guard him as I have guarded Mei,” Buir added, nodding firmly, “you have my word. Please understand that I do not make such commitments lightly.”

“Why haven’t we sparred yet, Buir?” Purple asked, “We should do that.”

Buir smiled, “I think I would enjoy the challenge.”

“I’m in good hands, Red. Don’t forget, mine are more than capable, too.”

Red felt the impulse to dig in his heels and fight regardless of how outnumbered and wrong he was. He wanted to cry out, to shout Purple down and force him to see reason. He was so afraid he was angry, and he was so angry, he felt sick. Worst of all, Purple was right. It was  _ his _ choice, and Red had no authority to deny him the agency to make it.

“You promised you wouldn’t leave me behind,” Red managed quietly.

Purple took Red’s hands, “I’m  _ not _ leaving you,” he said,  resisting the impulse to roll his eyes, “I’ll be gone a few hours.”

Red pulled Purple into an embrace and held him tightly, breathing him in and trying to commit every last detail to memory, “You’d better come back.”

“You owe me a date. You think I’d let you out of it  _ that  _ easy? I have definite expectations.”

Red hated himself for laughing.

“That’s better,” Purple said with a smile.

“I’m going to kiss him now, so if you’ve got a problem with that, go away.”

Grateful for the warning, Lard Nar and the others departed in separate directions as Red leaned in and pressed his mouth to Purple’s.

Though he had always been proud, Red would have thrown himself on his knees and begged his partner to stay if such a gesture would not have been so painfully cliché. Purple would never let him live something like  _ that _ down.

* * *

 

Spleenk hadn’t bothered with paperwork. He used his clearance to bypass procedure entirely and accessed both files without hesitation. Quib hadn’t raised any red flags during his evaluation, according to the doctor who performed it. He was an incredibly intelligent aerospace engineer, and had a pleasant demeanor. Wilelel’s ship had rescued him from Vort, and he’d decided to join up with the resistance. He’d been placed on the  _ Frustra _ , and they’d shipped out with the crew a few weeks ago. The only medical issue of note was an enzyme deficiency that caused some minor but uncomfortable dietary problems. Nothing exciting there.

Kar Ghann had received a clean bill of mental health as well. He had an older brother who worked as a trader on Atlas and a sister he’d lost during the first round of the Vortain Riots. Spleenk didn’t like to make assumptions (after all, one glance at his own family history would lead to all manner of false impressions about personal grudges), but he knew that people had killed for far less. He served on the ship that had rescued Quib and, according to all records, died on Vort. That meant that Ghann had either been so flawless in faking his death that he had fooled even his captain, or that Wilelel had helped him. There was no way he’d have been able to slip past the rest of his crew and blend in with the refugees (and he  _ had  _ to have done that or else how would he have met Quib?) while avoiding the census otherwise. He couldn’t prove it, though. 

Spleenk had never really liked Wilelel; he had struck the four-armed alien as dangerously headstrong even before he’d disobeyed orders and put his crew at risk on the Vort mission. He wasn’t who Lard Nar would have chosen for a captain, but compromises had been made to spare egos and the like when Lard Nar had finally brought the various, rebelling factions of the resistance under one metaphorical banner. Aside from helping Ghann fake his death, what role was he supposed to play in all this? Did he expect to take over command of the resistance in the event of Lard Nar’s demise? Didn’t he know there were contingencies on top of contingencies for that (none of which included Wilelel)? …Probably not.

So, Wilelel’s job was likely to stay back and be ready to rally the troops when Lard Nar fell. It kept his hands clean risked him almost nothing. Ghann had done the dirty work, but where did Quib fit? He certainly had the skills to make the defective board for Ghann, but  _ why _ would he do it? He would have only known Ghann for two weeks by the time he joined the  _ Frustra _ . If Quib was sound enough to pass his psych evaluation and been recommended for service, he probably wasn’t easy to manipulate. 

All of it could be cleared up if he could just  _ find Ghann  _ on Malterra. Spleenk clenched his fists and forced his anxiety back down as best he could with a deep breath. He felt like he was drowning again.The air wouldn’t come and his lungs burned, and his nails bit into his palms. Every inhale was an effort and the world threatened to fall away. How could Ghann be so invisible?! 

The Vortian had done an excellent job of playing a ghost. He hadn’t used his real ID card, and the only time he’d used Quib’s was last night to get on the ship. Facial recognition had picked him up only the previous night.

This was the point where Shloonktapooxis would suggest that perhaps Ghann/Quib  _ was  _ a ghost trying to avenge his own death in a misguided fashion and maybe they should hold a seance to help him find peace and cross over. Spleenk couldn’t help but chuckle, and suddenly, it was much easier to breathe. 

Maybe he was going about this the wrong way. The only way to hide from facial recognition software was not to show one’s face. At a hospital, it was nothing unusual to see people with bandaged heads or sporting surgical masks. If you were walking around with bandages on your face, no one was going to ask you how you’d gotten them. It was impolite.

He’d had a patient once, a former amateur model, who’d explained that she’d blown half her jaw off not to make herself ugly, but to become invisible.

Well, if he couldn’t find Ghann, perhaps he could find Quib in the surveillance footage and work from there.

* * *

 

Skoodge had checked the drain traps in all the common-area sinks and toilets for communication devices that may have been hastily discarded, and scanned for the usual fake wall, floor, and ceiling panels in every crew bathroom. None of the mirrors were secretly two-way communication screens. Everything seemed perfectly normal, so he moved on to Quib’s quarters.

In his admittedly limited social experience, he’d found engineers were either a whirlwind of messy or neat to the point of obsession. Quib did not disappoint him, but unfortunately for Skoodge, fell in the “messy” category. Well, at least there were no plates of moldy food.

While he’d never boast his technological ability to be on par with Tak or Red, Skoodge wasn’t by any means inept. He plugged an external device into Quib’s terminal and turned the machine on, instructing it to boot from his drive first. It happily complied, then reset, and as it did, Skoodge’s program ran in the background, making a copy of the entire machine for him.

This was nothing special; all Invaders were trained to do such things. The trick was doing it unnoticed, and Skoodge  _ would _ boast that he’d become quite good at that. 

In the meantime, he surveyed the mess. Few functional people were absolute slobs, meaning that there was almost always a method to the disorder and the mess-maker could typically find anything you asked for. The sort of people who had absolutely no method were either hoarders or those who’d been so spoiled as children they could not (and refused to) function as adults. Quib was neither, so there had to be some kind of logic. 

The clothing draped over his desk chair appeared to be clean, so Skoodge assumed it had been laundered and never put away. The heap of clothes in the farthest corner probably needed washing. He noticed a plethora of notes littering Quib’s desk and even some on his walls. Myka wasn’t kidding about his forgetfulness.

The only item that wasn’t surrounded by some kind of mess was a bottle of DigestAll, a calendar, and a day-of-the-week pill case. It was clearly an important part of Quib’s routine if he went through so much effort to keep track of it. He snapped a few images with his hand terminal, then popped open one of the little cubes that hadn’t been emptied, and recorded a few images of the pill itself before replacing it.

He disconnected his cloning device when the pink light turned green, and shut down the workstation, careful to leave everything the way he’d found it. Skoodge sent his findings and the data from his cloning device off to Tenn and Spleenk, then decided he’d make a quick trip down to the engine room for a chat with some of the mechanics before he returned to the main deck.

* * *

 

Thankfully, Red did not have long to fret over Purple’s safety. Urr’s call interrupted what would have been a solid forty-five minutes or so of moping interspersed with intense periods of melancholic brooding that would have done no one any good.

“Sally wants you to have a look at the com system programming. It looks like Dib found some kind of backdoor.”

“You think someone’s listening in on us?”

“Only the unsecured, text-based systems. You know, the group chat service and recreational email,” Urr clarified. “We’re lucky the vulnerability it’s trying to exploit got patched in an unscheduled upgrade last night. Whoever’s trying to hack us didn’t know about it, so the only things they can access are unencrypted email and text. We think they may have cloned the server.”

“Any idea who wrote the hack?”

“We’re that investigating now. Should I have her close the backdoor or take down the server?”

Red thought for a moment, “Whoever they are, they know how to get around our systems too well to be an outsider. I don’t want them to know we’ve caught on. They can’t see or hear us if we’re using secure channels, right?”

“Uh huh. So we’ll leave it in operation?”

“Yeah. If they wanna play ‘voyeur’, I’m going to have a little fun with them first.”

Urr chuckled, “Sure, Red. We’ll let you know when we’ve traced the location its sending the information to.”

If Purple had been there, he would have known exactly what the smile on Red’s face meant, and immediately shut down whatever scheme his partner had concocted. Left to his own devices, Red set to work quickly.

* * *

 

Tenn noted with interest the look of intensifying nausea and horror on Wilelel’s face as he glanced at his hand terminal. He was so absorbed in his disgust he failed to notice Tak with an equally disturbed expression, looking down at her own device.

Lulu approached the small, purple-eyed Irken casually, asking, “What’s wrong?”

Tak motioned Lulu closer before offering her hand terminal.

The Azurian’s eyes went wide for a moment, and Tenn watched her stick her fist in her mouth, clearly trying not to laugh. She coughed several times and handed the device back to Tak before walking over to Tenn.

“The unofficial com server ain’t secure. Tak patched herself into the  _ Icarus _ ’s system and it looks like somebody on this ship and someone back on Malterra are spyin’ on us. She says its some kinda hack.”

“And?”

Lulu chuckled, “It looks like Red figured out what was goin’ on.”

“How can you tell?”

“That Irken has a  _ filthy _ mind.”

Tenn couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Wilelel’s getting the communications. I don’t think he’s the one who hacked it, but he’s in on it. Spleenk and I figured as much.”

Lulu’s expression conveyed serious concern, “I ain’t sayin’ I disagree with you, but I need to know if you can you prove it. We can’t accuse him ’til we got evidence.”

“He reacted to Red’s message. I saw his face. We need his hand terminal for confirmation.”

The Azurian frowned. “No way he’s gonna let his guard down around me, ‘specially after I embarrassed him earlier.”

Tenn thought to herself for a moment. “We may be able to use that to our advantage. He likes feeing superior to people, and he’ll  _ love _ hearing you admit your were wrong. I have an idea. Ask Tak if she has a ComCloner, but don’t let her give it to you. I want him to think we suspect her.”

“Ohhh…” she said, “we tell him she’s in the system and the cloner is some kinda security patch for his com. It should spook him into contactin’ his accomplices.”

“I’ll send you the security footage of her boarding the ship last night. It should be enough to put him on edge because he knows his friend is on there, too.”

* * *

 

“Hey, Dib,” Red’s voice began over his com, “do you have a second?”

“...Sure,” he replied, having difficulty looking at the red-eyed Irken for very long and squirming in his seat, “What can I do for you?”

“The unofficial com server is still in operation because I don’t want whoever’s spying on us to know we’ve figured them out. I need you to keep sending messages through so they don’t get suspicious. I’ve got to rebuild this engine board, or I’d keep doing it myself.”

The human exhaled gratefully and placed a hand to his chest, “Well, at least now I have some context for those emails about a weekly, ship-wide orgy,” he grimaced, almost painfully, “Did you _really_ have to go there with tentacles and electrodes?!”

Red looked entirely too pleased with himself, “I hope it made our spy uncomfortable.”

“I’m sure it made them  _ well past  _ uncomfortable, Re d,”  Dib replied, shuddering  as his brain felt violated all over again.

The Irken on the other end of the call seemed totally obvious to the mental distress his messages may have caused the human on the other line, and seemed satisfied. “Good! Just create some spoofed email addresses and have fun!”

Dib opened a blank, new message in his terminal window.  _ To Dib _ he typed,  _ from Zim _ .  _ While your existence induces a seething, borderline frothing, frustrated rage from the depth of my cold and totally non-existent soul, and I have intentionally gone out of my way to end your pathetic  _ _ excuse for a life _ _ on numerous occasions, I will allow you the privilege of basking in my vastly superior intelligence. I am in no way asking for assistance or implying that you are useful in any way; however, I have done something incredibly brilliant and through no fault of my own, it has become even more incredible than first anticipated! So incredible that it is… literally out of my control; of course, I could stop it if I  _ wanted  _ to, but I know you will appreciate the gracious opportunity to help me extract my head from where it remains firmly wedged up my own ass. _

_To Zim, from Dib:_

_You’re an idiot._

_To Dib, from Zim:_

_Feeble human! You shall rue the day you reject Zim’s offer!_

This was going to be easier than he thought.

* * *

 

Myka was willing to compromise as long as Shloonktapooxis kept Quib away from the ship’s systems until they had some idea of his involvement, so even though it went against her better judgement, she did not throw Quib into the brig (or out the airlock). He and Shloonktapooxis ended up sitting alone in the ship’s nearly-empty (save for the security guards) mess hall.

“Are ya sure you’re not hungry, man?” Shloonktapooxis asked, his mouth full of grayish protein paste, “I can’t get enough of this stuff. Everyone always complains about it, but you really don’t even need to mix it with anything! It’s always best straight outta the tube, if you ask me.”

Anyone who knew him would not have been the least bit surprised by this.

“I-it’s okay; I’m all right,” he said, “besides, my DigestAll doesn’t seem to be working anymore.”

“Been sick a lot lately?”

He frowned in frustration, “It used to work. Even the off-brand stuff they gave me in prison was fine. The medic says it’s probably stress-related.”

Shloonktapooxis nodded in understanding, “Stress can  _ really  _ mess you up. Anything in particular stressin’ you out?”

“You mean besides right now?” He asked, gesturing at his surroundings, “Being detained but not  _ officially  _ detained with no reason or explanation?”

“Well duh, aside from that.”

Quib didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes as he sighed, “I’m forgetting things.  _ Important  _ things. I feel like I’m looking at the world through a glass wall half the time. There, but…not.”

“Wow, man… that’s deep!”

“The medic can’t find anything wrong; my brain scans are all normal, but… something’s not right. I can’t trust myself anymore.”

“Aw, don’t get down on yourself,” the conical alien replied. “Why don’tcha try some stress management strategies or somethin’? You got any friends you can talk to?”

He sighed, “I’m still new here, and my mistakes haven’t made me very popular. The other day, I forgot I put my lunch in the microwave, so I put it in six times, until the plastic melted into the food! I held up the line and we still haven’t gotten rid of the smell.”

“Any prison buddies?”

“We weren’t permitted much social time,” Quib answered. “But Vahrn Kal checks in every once in a while. I guess I could talk to him. Maybe I will. You know, once I’m allowed to have my com back.”

The sarcasm was lost on Shloonktapooxis. “I think you’re a good dude in a bad spot, that’s all. Don’t worry; my people are gonna get this cleared up before you know it. You’ll see!”

Quib’s eyes lost focus for a moment and he stared vacantly at Shloonktapooxis.

“Hey there, buddy,” the cone-shaped alien said, “you all right?”

Quib shook himself from his stupor, “Yes, right, I’m fine. We were talking about…” he crumpled slightly, “what were we talking about?”

* * *

 

The surveillance footage helped Spleenk trace the path Quib had walked during his time on Malterra, and verified it using the time-stamped log of where and when he’d used his keycard. Sure enough, he spent a significant amount of time in the company of someone who showed up as “Vahrn Kal” in the keycard logs and wore an impressive amount of bandages on his face. The height and weight were a match for Ghann, so Spleenk decided to look the name up.

He was listed as an inmate on Vort and the DNA matched, but something seemed… off. The size of Kal’s head was inconsistent with the photo they’d pulled from the prison registry, and that was something Ghann couldn’t obscure or fake. Also, Spleenk noticed that Ghann was left-handed but Kal had been right-handed. He felt a creeping dread inside him. The sensation was a slow but steady trickle, like lazy raindrops into a bucket that was filling much faster than it ought to.

Kal had probably been alive when he’d gotten on the  _ Icarus _ . At least, he’d survived long enough to provide a DNA sample. 

Shit.  _ Fuck _ .

Okay. If Vahrn Kal were dead, there was nothing Spleenk could do about it now. What he  _ could  _ do was find Ghann and assess Quib’s level of involvement. He dispatched a security team to “Kal’s” quarters, and scanned the available footage for the moment Ghann had either filched or been given Quib’s access card. 

He found ten minutes later. The morning Quib had left for the  _ Frustra _ , he’d grabbed an early breakfast with Ghann. The former had the distinct look of a last-minute packer who always thought they could pack in 30 minutes but required two hours in reality. After his first bite of food, Quib’s eyes bulged in the universal expression of “oh shit!”. There was a brief exchange that ended with Quib handing his access card over with a relieved, grateful expression and “thank you” on his lips. 

Quib stayed until Ghann had finished his breakfast (out of politeness, probably, because he didn’t finish his food), and they parted ways. Quib had gone back to his room and entered using the retinal scan option, and Quib’s access card popped up at a nearby pharmacy, confirming the pickup of a1-year prescription for DigestAll.

_Well, that explains why he didn’t finish his food. He must’ve run out of medicine._

Later, almost at the last possible minute, Ghann showed up at the docks and gave Quib the pills; there was no time to ask about the access card. The poor alien was so relieved he hugged Ghann and then boarded the  _ Frustra.  _

Spleenk’s brain chewed for a moment on this new information, piecing it together with the rest of what he knew. “Vahrn Kal” had claimed to suffer from severe migraines so intense he required medication. Having prescribed them before, Spleenk was aware of the unpleasant side effects these drugs sometimes had; things like dizziness, nausea, and, oh yeah, forgetfulness. Skoodge had said that Quib was struggling with memory issues. He’d taken images of Quib’s pills, too, hadn’t he?

Spleenk shoved himself away from his desk and bolted for the nearest pharmacist.

* * *

 

Lulu approach Wilelel casually, “We need to talk. Somethin’ you should know.”

“I don’t leave the bridge during missions,” He replied, as if she ought to know better.

Lulu ignored the condescension in his tone, “We figured it out.”

That got his attention. His head snapped toward her so quickly she expected to hear it crack, “What?”

“Your coms might not be secure,” she said, “just come with me and I’ll explain. You got a place we can talk?”

He searched her face for a moment, playing dumb, “Yes. Come with me,” he replied, leading her to a room off the left side of the command deck.

It occurred to Lulu that he might try to kill her if he panicked, so she would have to be extremely careful with how she played things. She’d talked herself out of worse, and far more narrow spaces before so she’d probably be fine.

_ Probably _ .

“Sorry for the whole big scene I hadda make earlier,” she said, relaxing a bit now that it was just the two of them, “we’ve had a feeling Tak was up to somethin’ for a while, but we didn’t think it’d be somethin’ so big.”

“What? Who, the Irken?”

She nodded, “Purple-eyed one. She’s  _ gotta _ be the one behind the sabotage.” 

“How do you figure?” He asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Lulu opened the security footage on her hand terminal, “Tenn, the other Irken, she found it. That’s Tak and the human gettin’ onto Lard Nar’s ship last night. They were the last two off. She must’a duped the poor kid to use him as a distraction.”

“O-oh. I see. Well, shouldn’t we arrest her?”

Lulu frowned, “She’s a damn good tech and she’s in your com system. We go after her before the mission’s over and who knows  _ what  _ she’ll do. Her target was Lard Nar, so it’s not likely she’ll want anything to do with your ship. If we leave her be an’ don’t give away what we know, I’ll have her where I want her when I get her back on the shuttle. Ain’t no sense in puttin’ your crew at risk for our mistake.”

He nodded sagely, “I’m glad you appreciate the gravity of the situation you’ve caused for me,  _ Lieutenant _ .”

He was mocking her, and she knew it, but she didn’t call him on it. She grit her teeth and hoped it passed for embarrassment, “That’s why I’m givin’ you this,” she said, holding out the ComCloner to Wilelel, “Don’t say I never did ya any favors. Just stick that sucker in your com and hand terminal, and you’ll be safe.”

He stiffened, “W-why would I need this?”

“You been usin’ the ship’s coms, haven’t ya? If she ain’t hacked you yet, she will by the time she’s done. I told ya, she’s  _ good _ . So good, it was worth the risk to keep her around, ya know? This’ll upgrade your com and hand terminal and install an executive channel.” He’d like the sound of “executive channel”, even if he had no idea what it meant _. _

She sighed, plugging the device into her own hand terminal, “I’ll do mine right here to prove it to ya.”

He watched her suspiciously, but took the device when she handed it to him and made no fuss over using it. “I told Lard Nar that Irkens would be nothing but trouble. Let’s hope he’s learned his lesson. If he doesn’t take care of the rest of them soon, he might not be so lucky next time.”

Lulu somehow managed not to punch his teeth in Wilelel attributed the angry shift in her jaw to embarrassment and seemed satisfied.

“You should get back to keeping an eye on your little Irken menace before she does any more damage. I need to check on a few things. I know you said she’s hasn’t put my crew in danger, but…” he inhaled patronizingly, “given the circumstances, I’m sure you understand my concern.”

Lulu nodded and left the room, inventing a variety of exciting new insults in her mind as she reentered the bridge. She hoped Lard Nar would let her punch him when all this was over.

* * *

 

With a brand-new engine board installed, tested, and ready, the mission officially resumed. Dib coordinated every ship’s position and was therefore able to launch the hack simultaneously. He was rather proud of having figured out how to use Tak’s software to do that. This pride was evident to everyone in his vicinity, whether communicated through his triumphant cheer or the way he’d jumped out of his chair, posing heroically with his hands on his hips until the nearest creature quietly suggested he take a seat. Dib mumbled an embarrassed apology. Old habits died hard, and he was no exception.

His self-consciousness was temporary, immediately replaced by a renewed surge of confidence, as he studied his screen and pumped his fist in the air.

“Did you guys _see_ that _?”_ He asked, “We hit every target with _perfect_ timing, down to the _nanosecond_! Man, I’m good!”

No one around him could disagree, regardless of how annoying they found his over-enthusiasm. Even a half-second delay between deploying the attack might be long enough for one maintenance bot to realize something was wrong with its sibling and trigger some kind of self-defense protocol. Yes, it was unlikely, but Dib had almost been blown up once today and it had nothing to do with Zim. His daily explosion quota was far lower than average lately, and he wasn’t about to jinx it.

The corrupted maintenance bots scurried off to relay their instructions to the main defense cannons, which rotated toward their new targets and fired before anyone on the surface knew what had happened. All 31 locations exploded simultaneously.

“I cannot believe that worked,” Lard Nar said as though he’d been holding his breath and only finally exhaled.

“You doubted me?” Red asked, half joking, half seriously.

“Not you, no. But after everything else… I was starting to wonder if the mission was cursed.”

“Do curses work in space?” Dib interjected curiously, unable to suppress the paranormal investigator in him.

“Damned if I know,” the captain replied, “you could ask Mei. I bet she’d be able to tell you. Probably something to do with energy.”

Red snorted and crossed his arms, clearly tense and unhappy. Lard Nar immediately realized his mistake and cursed under his breath.

“She’s part of our team, Red. You don’t have to like it, you don’t have to like  _ her _ , or what she says. You don’t even have to trust her if you don’t want to. I expect you to trust  _ me _ as your captain, and I would hope you trust me as your friend.”

Red’s intense frown lingered for a few moments before softening into a small grin, “I knew you liked us.”

Lard Nar rolled his eyes and sighed, shaking his head. “Wonderful. All right, now, Dib. I’d like you to send the  _ Icarus’s _ coordinates to the  _ Ibi  _ and  _ Garam Masala _ . See if you can get us all there at the same time. Quietly, though.”

Dib understood the implication, “Will do. I’ll keep us in hyperspace so we don’t miss any important transmissions, either,” he nodded in acknowledgement at Red, who hadn’t expected the kindness and looked more thankful than Dib had guessed he could.

He thought back to his conversation with Purple, when the violet-eyed Irken had mentioned all the normal things they’d missed out on as a couple, and how sad and vulnerable he’d looked thinking that they might not ever get the chance to make up for it. Dib knew, from Red’s message back when all this started, some of what they’d gone through, but his mind still hadn’t reconciled the Tallest personas he’d had spoken with and who they were at heart. The older he got, the more Dib realized that people were impossibly complicated. Well, the more interesting ones, anyway.

“Look, Red… I know it’s not my place to say anything; I don’t know you all that well and frankly, it seems like every time I open my mouth, I dig myself a hole that collapses and buries me in awkward, but I don’t think there’s a force in this universe that could stop Purple from coming  back .”

“Thanks, kid,” Red exhaled, visibly less tense than before. “So, Nar,” he said, “how would you feel about a dramatic entrance?”

“On a scale of ‘trashy-romance-novel’ to ‘walking-away-from-an-explosion’, how dramatic are we talking?”

Red chuckled, “I’m thinking ‘well-timed-interruption-and-public-confrontation’. Just don’t ask me to write the dialogue.”

Lard Nar considered the suggestion, “Sure. Why not? What’s the plan?”

* * *

 

“Success!” Zim announced in a proud half-bellow, half-cackle as the narghog (a common, non-sentient creature best described as part mouse, part insect, and part pig with a touch of octopus that was often used in research experiments) froze in its goo-slathered tracks.

Iris cracked a small smile, “All right; let’s make sure the deactivation cleanser works before we celebrate.”

Zim hadn’t even considered that. He supposed that this was why all his science instructors had insisted on lab partners in the past, and understood why dismissing them had been a poor choice on his part. A series of memories flooded through his memory, all of them featuring Skooge at various ages imploring him to wait or expressing reservations about something Zim was blissfully ignoring the consequences of.

He was glad Iris had stopped by, even though he’d never tell her.

* * *

 

Despite his constantly being late for everything, Kaff somehow managed to arrive at the lab before the virologist. He gave no real thought to this and was only relieved that he hadn’t made a poor first impression or let someone down as he began the 14-step procedure for entering the cleanroom.

While the bioweapons weren’t airborne, there was no way to know at this point if the virus were contagious or how it might be spread (though he assumed the usual suspects would prove true) and there was no point in taking unnecessary risks.

He’d been explicitly ordered not to handle any samples of the bioweapon, so he hummed softly to himself as he first suited up and then began getting together the equipment he needed for his tests. First, he’d check to make sure the substance was the same as what he and his former colleagues had tested back on Irk. If it matched, it would be his control.

The main problem with this particular bug was that the Pad failed to recognize it. In fact, he and the others who’d tested it were concerned that it might actually be attacking the Pak itself, rendering the host and its immune system unable to fight back. Just to cover all his bases, he would come up with an  _ actual  _ vaccine and a Pak upgrade (hopefully, Iris wouldn’t mind helping with the latter); then, he’d have to talk with the resident xenobiologist about potential vulnerabilities that might enable it to jump species. 

It was quite a lot to do and the sooner he got started, the better.

* * *

 

As Iris had predicted, the cleansing solution required some tweaking, but after a few minor adjustments, it worked perfectly. Zim was beaming with delight when from out of nowhere came a sudden gust of air and an elated giggle of “YEEEHEEEE” in an unmistakable pitch.

GIR swooped into the room, swallowed the poor narghog in one gulp, belched loudly, and rubbed his robot belly with a satisfied sigh.

“Whatcha doin’, Master?”

Iris recognized it as the insane robotic creature that had wielded a salmon in the meeting the previous day, but had trouble processing its sudden appearance.

“Behold, GIR! Your master has unlocked the secrets of this mighty goo!” He said, hoisting the weapon over his head, unable to suppress the urge to show it off.

“Oooh!” GIR marveled, wide-eyed in amazements. “It’s shiny!”

“Yes! Shiny… and  _ gooey _ !”

“Lemme see! Lemme see!” The machine begged eagerly, not bothering to wait for permission before snatching the device right out of Zim’s hands.

“GIR! Return that to your master! You do not understand the genius of my design!”

GIR giggled, then jumped into the air (using Zim’s head as a springboard) before bolting out the door.

Iris stared at Zim, who was rubbing the footprint the robot had left on his head as he staggered in pursuit. She glanced around her, grabbed the cleansing solution, and jogged after both of them.

* * *

 

Kaff had a difficult time processing the series of events that followed; even when he later replayed it from his Pak’s memory storage, the whole episode had a strange unreality about it. One moment, he was welcoming the virologist over the intercom, and the next, there was a flash of red light and the medic in charge of airlock operation had crumpled to the floor.

It was important that a cleanroom’s main airlock only be operable from the outside by authorized personnel in case of accidental contamination. Though the chances of exposure were extremely low, even in the event of a suit malfunction, it was still possible that someone might be exposed to something dangerous. A poorly-timed bout of hiccups might result in a nick on the finger. If the doctor failed to follow protocol (no matter how rational, people did strange and uncharacteristic things when afraid or exposed to possibly-lethal contagions), the consequences would be catastrophic. The airlock could also be opened remotely by security in the event of a siege or swift-moving plague, so one didn’t have to worry about being unable to escape. This was great for biohazard safety, but not so much for self-defense.

Kaff was thinking about this as his shock-addled brain watched the Vortian he was now fairly certain was  _ not _ actually the virologist initiated the airlock’s opening sequence. He slammed the panic button six times before forcing himself to stop hyperventilating. What could he use as a weapon? The only thing he had was the virus, and that would kill  _ him,  _ not his assailant.

Then, there was a sudden burst of goo that covered most of the transparent window, and the Vortian froze in his tracks. It took Kaff several minutes to realize he wasn’t even blinking his eyelids.

There was a gasp of childlike excitement, “It makes  _ goo!” _

“GIR! What have you,” a pause. Kaff saw a shoe nudging the dead medic’s body, “Hey, you, no sleeping on the job! Wake up! …Erm… eh….”

“Z-zim,” Kaff managed through the intercom, “is that you?”

“Kaff?” He asked in that startled manner of his.

“Thank Irk,” he breathed, “the Vortain, the gooey one, he, h-he shot the medic. He was going after me next. W-whatever you did to him, keep him that way!”

Zim nodded, even though Kaff couldn’t see it. “GIR!” He ordered in a commanding voice, “Your master commands you to goo-ify that Vortian!”

And for once, because it was what he’d been planning to do anyway, GIR listened.

 

Iris arrived to find Zim had regained possession of his device, and stood cradling it proudly while GIR sat on the floor, eating what appeared to be an entire ham. Iris didn’t recognize it as such, having never seen or heard of “ham” (nor pigs, for that matter); to her, it was just a massive hunk of meat on a bone. There was someone on the floor she guessed was dead, and a goo-slathered Vortian.

Iris had to give credit where it was due; the goo looked  _ incredibly _ uncomfortable. 

* * *

 

Spleenk took a few deep breaths and reviewed his training in his head. He’d been good at this once, one of the best, in fact… but that had been nearly a lifetime ago, and might as well have been someone else. What happened to the former selves you shed like invisible skins across time, he thought? What did you retain, and was that even for you to decide?

Now was not the time for such questions. His only job was getting a clear, uncoerced confession from Kar Ghann, who was smart and would see through Spleenk in a second if he slipped up.  _ Well, here goes. _

Ghann was sitting calmly and quietly, not fidgeting or shifting at all, and didn’t even turn his head when Spleenk entered the room (though the skin near his auditory receptors tensed slightly, so he was at least aware of the sound). His posture was relaxed, though he remained alert. He was unperturbed; a man with a clear conscience.

“We know what you did,” Spleenk said, speaking more like a pleasantly surprised parent than a hostile adversary. “You wrote a virus and loaded it onto the engine control boards and installed them on Lard Nar’s ship last night. You were recorded on video, and the other mechanics in your group all confirmed you were there to test the engine… only, they were under them impression that your name was Quib. They recognized your face, though. Your virus also created a virtual clone of the com server instead of just hacking it… that was  _ very _ clever. You kept the IP addresses the same so we wouldn’t be suspicious. It was the human who picked up on the 10-second delay and clued our techs in. You almost had us. Well done.” It sounded like a genuine compliment, “And you really threw us off with Quib at first. Myka was ready to throw him out the airlock, but Shloonktapooxis overruled her. If Skoodge hadn’t checked his medication, he’d be rotting in the  _ Frustra’s  _ brig.

“You couldn’t take Kaff out from inside the clean room because the medic would notice, so you had to kill him. Unfortunate, but necessary.” He paused, observing Ghann without staring.

The Vortain was was hesitant to relax, despite his casual posture, but some of his arrogance had melted away (the look in his eyes told Spleenk he still viewed him with contempt, though). He was interested and listening.

“You sabotaged the captain’s ship and set Quib up to take the fall. You bugged the com system, shorted out the virologists’s door, killed a medic, and tried to kill Kaff. Wilelel helped you,” he said, drawing the chair opposite Ghann away from the table and making himself comfortable in it without breaking eye contact, “and you both killed Vahrn Kal, whose identity you’ve been using since Vort.”

Ghann said nothing, but the shift in his jaw told Spleenk he was angry.

“I want to hear your side of the story,” the four-armed alien said, rapt, “I’ve looked at your files and talked to your friends. You’re intelligent. You’ve got ideals, and you can’t just sit back and do nothing while injustice goes unpunished. I respect that.”

Still, no response.

“What about your brother, Ghann? Don’t you want him to know the truth? I don’t want him thinking the only family he’s got left is some traitor.”

Ghann gave a humorless chuckle, “ T raitor. That’s funny.  _ I’m  _ the traitor.”

“I  _ know  _ you’re no traitor. You’ve been nothing but an exemplary member of the resistance, so you  _ must _ have a good reason for what you did. I don’t believe you were acting out of malice, and I want to set things straight.”

“The resistance,” he spat, “what are we even  _ resisting _ anymore? We’re taking on our enemies, not a prisoners, but  _ allies _ ?! Giving them authority?” He looked disgusted, “Mark my words, when we’ve done the dirty work taking out their ‘enemy’, the Irkens will turn on us faster than you can blink. The captain,” he said the word like it was sour and offensive, “doesn’t see that. He’d rather we fight  _ their _ war instead of ours. He’s dangerous and he’s going to get people killed.”

“So that’s why you wanted him dead?” Spleenk asked genuinely.

“I didn’t  _ want  _ him dead, but he’s just  not going to give up command. Wilelel tried to talk reason into him, but Lard Nar just wouldn’t hear it. Look, if he’s allowed to lead, we’re all as good as dead.”

“You did what needed to be done. Took action to protect the group.”

“Exactly!  _ He’s  _ the traitor! Lard Nar has betrayed his people, and someone had to stop him.”

“Why frame Quib, then? Wouldn’t you want people to appreciate your effort?”

“Quib was just a back-up plan,” he explained, “if things had worked out, the ship would have exploded and we’d have blamed the Irkens for the sabotage.”

“I see. So everyone would be united against the _real_ enemy.”

“Yes,” he replied, “but we couldn’t just assume it would work; you need to have contingencies. In case it didn’t, we wanted to make sure the trail led to someone else so we’d be able to regroup.”

“What’s one person when millions of lives are on the line?”

“Nobody likes to do that sort of math, but it’s true.”

“Was that the case with the medic, too?”

He sighed, “That was sloppy, but it was the only chance I had. I knew he wouldn’t let me out if I killed the Irken doctor in the cleanroom, and the doctor would’ve noticed if I tried to leave with a sample of the virus; you can’t exactly pocket something when you have no pockets.”

“It was a big risk. Why’d you take it if you had the Quib contingency in place?”

He clenched and unclenched a fist, exhaling, “Wilelel found out that fucking Irken ‘Nar has working security had videos from last night. We both knew once Lard Nar looked at it, he’d recognize me.”

Was he mad about Wilelel, Tenn, or Nar? “I think that would make anyone angry,” Spleenk tried.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” He replied, in an irritated, sour voice, “But apparently, everyone’s just fine with Irkens watching us. Before you know it, we’ll be wearing Paks for ‘our own good’.”

Spleenk nodded thoughtfully, “Since the virus only affects Irkens, it would do the job you and Wilelel intended to accomplish by blowing up the captain’s ship.”

He nodded in affirmation, sighing wistfully, “At that point, it didn’t matter if I got caught, as long as I got it into the ventilation system. We tried. The right thing isn’t always the easy thing, but someone, somewhere needs to do it sometime.”

He was right, but his application of that mantra was tragically warped.  _ That _ was the danger of ignorance, Spleenk thought. He only saw a tiny part of the whole picture, made assumptions about what it must be, and he’d acted on them. Wilelel had confirmed his suspicions, and his authority was enough for Ghann to justify taking action. Yes, of course there were bad Irkens; some of them were terrible, irredeemable wretches who relished their own barbarism, but the truth was that there were bad  _ people,  _ of all backgrounds and species, from all planets in the universe _.  _ He’d met more than a few in his cargo smuggling days (he’d been appalled at how difficult it was to find a crew who outright refused to traffic sentient beings), and even more back when he’d been a profiler.

“What about Vahrn Kal? What happened to him?”

“He had an accident while working on the reactor.”

“You’re smart, Kar Ghann. You know as well as I do that they’re designed to make  _ those _ sorts of accidents impossible.”

Ghann gave a small smile, as if appreciating Spleenk’s intelligence, “Can’t blame me for trying, can you?”

“It’s going to come out one way or another when we question Wilelel. You haven’t lied to me yet and that’s something I can’t say for Wilelel, so I’d rather hear it from you.”

He seemed to acknowledge Spleenk’s point and sighed, “I didn’t kill him. You probably don’t believe it, but killing people who don’t deserve it isn’t something I feel good about. Wilelel took care of it.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your honesty,” he replied, establishing eye contact as he nodded thoughtfully. He took a breath before he spoke again. “I’m going to need you to write down what you just told me,” he said, handing Ghann a tablet and stylus, “your story in your own words.”

The Vortian stared at it for a moment, glancing between it and Spleenk before taking the pen, “When everything goes to hell,” he said, making eye contact, “remember I tried to stop it.”

Spleenk sagged against the door to the interrogation room and sighed; his entire body felt exhausted even though he’d only spent mental energy. He felt slimy and contaminated, recalling that this was exactly the reason he tried to avoid having to conduct interrogations in the past. He touched the small, triangular device on his temple and dialed Lard Nar.

“I got the confession,” he said, “he and Wilelel definitely tried to kill you.”

“I’m surprised he was so forthcoming about it.”

“He knew we had him on video messing with the ship and killing the medic. There was no point in denying anything. Also, I think he likes hearing himself talk. Big-time hero complex.”

“You know what’s funny?” Lard Nar asked in a sigh.

“Listening to someone rant about how your boyfriend needs to die because he’s not bigoted enough?”

He laughed, “I miss you, Spleenk.”

“What’s funny about that?”

The captain chuckled again, “You’re going to turn me into an optimist, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t change a thing,” Spleenk replied, “but I do need to balance you out.”

“I had planned on lamenting that I never intended to take charge of this thing, but I’m hardly in the mood for it now.”

Spleenk smiled, “Good. You on your way back yet?”

“I will be soon. I still owe someone a surprise visit.”

* * *

“Today is an important day,” Wilelel began, addressing his crew over the ship-wide PA, “we struck against the enemy and we will strike again, until we are victorious. It will not come as easily as it did today; it will not come without sacrifice.”

The effort Tak had to exert to keep herself from rolling her eyes was extraordinary. She could tell Tenn was seething, and Lulu was biting her lip trying not to laugh.

“That sacrifice is made all the more real today, which nearly cost us Lard Nar, our beloved leader, and his crew their lives. But we are  _ more  _ than just our leader, and today has shown us that if our leader were to fall, someone  _ would _ be there to carry on the fight. I promise you that  _ I  _ will carry on the fight, no matter what challenges befall us.”

_ Could he lay it on any thicker? _ Lulu asked herself.

Tak’s eyes slipped for a moment, but she caught herself before she could complete the eye roll.

“The threat is real, and it is frightening because today, it comes from within. Yes, today has also revealed that there are those among us who do not share the same goals, who do not value freedom the way the we, the oppressed, do. How can they, when they have not endured the horror we have survived? My dear crewmates, we have the saboteur, the  _ attempted murderer _ , onboard this very ship, posing as one of us,”

There.  _ That  _ was the sort of dramatic moment Red had told her to wait for. Tak smiled with great satisfaction as she opened the doors to the bridge with the push of a button. The sudden whooshing noise startled the room, especially Wilelel.

“I couldn’t agree more, you mutinous bastard,” Lard Nar interjected, steel and fire in his eyes as he marched straight up to the furry, blue alien, flanked by not only his own crew, but Somm-Saa, his people, and the crew of the _Frustra_. Myka had requested she be there to back the captain up as Quib was  one of her people, and Wilelel had put them all in danger by allowing Ghann to swap his meds. She did _not_ appreciate being fucked with.

Wilelel tried to flee, but Lulu and Tenn had grabbed him by the arms, forcing him in place. Tak brandished a taser, smiling in a manner that conveyed without question that she would be extremely pleased to make use of it on him.

A shocked murmur rose among the crew present on the bridge.

“Wha, w-what’s the meaning of this?!” He demanded.

“Your friend back on Malterra told us everything we needed to know. Not that we hadn’t figured it out already,” Tenn explained, a little smugly. She couldn’t help herself. Out of everyone she’d ever met, he was without a doubt, the most insufferable asshole whose presence she’d endured. And she’d met Zim.

Wilelel’s mouth moved like a fish as the reality of the situation dawned on him slowly, and he crumpled beneath its weight.

“You’re relieved of your command,” Lard Nar said, staring him down, “ _ permanently _ .”

“You’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit mutiny, conspiracy to commit murder, attempted murder, and the murder of Vahrn Kal,” Tenn explained, cuffing his wrists behind his back.

“B-but,”

“No! I gave you what you asked for, didn’t I? You wanted a chance to lead. I put you in charge of people’s  _ lives,  _ and when you fucked up last time, I let it slide. Why wasn’t that enough for you?” He paused, shaking his head in disgust, “Did you think  _ you’d _ get my job if my ship went down?” He chuckled without amusement, “Wilelel, you are  _ so far _ down the chain of command that by the time your name got to the top of the list, there’d be  _ no one left under you _ .”

The captain’s words hit Wilelel hard, and Tak hoped he would cry.

“Let me be clear: this job  _ sucks _ . If I fuck up, people  _ literally _ die. I have to deal with logistics and strategy and everyone’s opinions; then there’s supplies and inventory and intel, security, and oh yeah, keeping the damn lights on! And you know something else? I’m  _ damn good _ at it. You think you can do my job better, be my guest. I’m sure your ‘administrative skills’ will compensate for the fact that your military experience consisted of sitting behind a desk!”

“I may not have your experience, Nar, but I know Irkens! Even if we win their fight, take down the big, bad monsters controlling Irk behind the scenes, do you think they’re just going to play nice because we asked them to?”

“Of course not, you moron!”

Wilelel stood with his mouth agape, shocked.

“They won’t go quietly! There’s a very good chance they’ll band together and keep fighting. We do things my way, we’ll have access to the control brains! Tenn and Somm-Saa are working on a post-war peacekeeping plan! My way, we  _ don’t _ commit genocide!”

“You think Irkens give a damn about committing genocide?!”

“What kind of a world do you want to build, Wilelel? Do you want your legacy written in blood?”

“Revolution is  _ always _ written in blood, ‘Nar. Don’t be a fool.”

“I know. That’s why we’re the  _ Resistance, _ ” he replied, “and make no mistake; there will be blood. But they will have to fight me for every fucking drop they want to spill, and I won’t sacrifice an ounce more than I’m forced to.  _ Do not  _ mistake mercy for weakness.” Lard Nar took a step towards Wilelel and got in his face, but lowered his voice, “You killed an innocent  creature , Wilelel. You killed him for  _ nothing _ .”

He stepped back, making eye contact one last time. The furry, blue alien looked destroyed.

“Take him away.”

* * *

 

**Allusions and References**

There's a reference to Chuck Palahniuk's _Invisible Monsters_ but I don't want to spoil the book, so I won't point out where it is.

Wilelel is a composite of the administrators in _Catch-22_

**Notes**

I based Spleenk's interrogation off of interrogation studies.

According to my cursory googling, clean rooms _do_ have a 14-step procedure.

If you noticed a certain chunk of text that's popped up verbatim before, yes, it's totally intentional :)

Thanks again, all of you who've left kudos and/or reviewed! I really appreciate it!

 


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